by V L Moon
“Merry Christmas, Roman.” Jorn’s booming voice blasted through the phone line. “Or, should I say Happy Holidays? Not sure what you vampires celebrate.” A pause ensued. “Shit. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
“No worries, Mr. Chamberlin.” Roman forced calm into his voice. “It depends on the family much the same as with any other race.” Grabbing his courage by the seat of the pants, he rushed on, “I need to talk to you about Tobias.”
“What happened? Did the plane have trouble? Is he okay? Do we need to come out?” Roman heard rustling and drawers slamming in the background. Agitation worked into Jorn’s voice.
“No sir, please. I didn’t mean to upset you. He’s here, sleeping right now. He was exhausted after…” Roman trailed off, heat bathing his cheeks at his near slip.
A warm chuckle rumbled in his ear. “I can guess; I know my Tobias. But, you didn’t call to tell me about my son’s sex life did you?”
“Ah, no,” he said, flustered by the male’s openness. “I’m worried about him. I fed from him. He wanted me to, and I had just woken up and he was there and it had been so long and…”
“I told him you’d notice,” Jorn interrupted. Roman’s babbling stopped instantly. So, he wasn’t the only one to see the changes.
“Is he sick?” Roman asked and rubbed a hand over his somersaulting stomach. Please Creator let him say no.
“He’s in love, Roman. Bonded. To you.” Jorn’s answer was not what Roman had been expecting, and it sent him careening for a seat. It wasn’t that Tobias was in love with him; he knew that already. But, their union was making him ill?
“What? I don’t understand. Is he like, allergic to me or something?” He expected the jovial laugh from before, but only soft breathing came across the line.
“Roman, what did he tell you about wolves and their bonded mate?” Jorn’s questions continued. “Do you know what that bond means to him? Do you know what being away from you does to him?”
“I know once a wolf bonds, it’s for life. I’m okay with that; hell I’m better than okay with it. I’ve been miserable while we’ve been apart.” Roman ran his fingers through his hair while pacing back and forth before the unlit fireplace.
“Then why did you stay away from him for so long?” The tone wasn’t accusing, but guilt swamped Roman. Darklon and his threat. It had been the only thing besides the King that could have kept him away. When he remained silent, Jorn sighed.
“Wolves have pack mentality; we thrive on being together. The close knit community, the sense of family, the constant need for tactile stimulation, all of those are important to any wolf. But, when a wolf mates or bonds, it’s different. We still need those things, but with a mate, we need more,” Jorn explained.
“Constant contact, skin to skin and soul to soul; otherwise, we suffer. I would guess it’s similar to the same way you need blood. A few swallows a day will tide you over, but not keep you healthy. You need a good long feeding. For Tobias, it’s not about blood. He needs you; your scent, your touch, your voice, your love. The phone calls and video chats, they are the few sips of blood that keep him going, but not the nourishment his soul needs.” Jorn sighed into the phone.
Every word cracked Roman’s heart wider. Tobias was sick, and it was his fault. The lack of knowledge was no excuse. He professed to love the male; yet, he hadn’t bothered to learn enough about his race to keep him healthy.
“I’m sorry,” he finally managed to murmur.
“Sorry won’t give him back the time lost. But, you can give him what he needs now. So, get off this damn phone and get your ass back in the bed with him,” Jorn demanded. “And son, don’t let this happen again, or I’ll come for you myself. I’ve lost one son, I won’t lose Tobias.” The threat carried very clearly through the phone. The quiet menace in the Alpha’s voice did not escape Roman’s notice despite the guilt clouding his mind.
“I won’t, sir. Not ever again. You have my word,” he vowed.
“Good then. Tell my son I love him. We’ll talk to him later.” The dial tone sounded before Roman could reply. He hit the end icon and dropped the phone into his lap. While trying to protect his wolf, he’d hurt him tremendously, and Tobias never said a word. Roman scrubbed a hand over his face and surged to his feet. They had some communication issues to work out, but first, he needed to replenish his wolf.
~*~*~*~
Rough hands flipped him from his all fours onto his back. Those same hands grasped his inner thighs and shoved them apart, exposing him. A growl reverberated in the room just before Tobias’s cock once more slammed deep into his ass. Roman preferred the changed positions because he could see the fierce passion in the wild topaz eyes of his lover. Animalistic howls vied with whines of pleasure and fell from Tobias’s lips.
Roman grabbed the headboard and levered his hips higher; a position Tobias used to his advantage. Lean fingers clenched the tight mounds of Roman’s ass and spread the cheeks giving his wolf better access. Sweat dampened hair swung around Tobias’s rugged, beautiful face. Their eyes locked and though no words were spoken, volumes passed between them. Promises made and vows forged in the straining language of their lover’s union.
A throaty rumble started; a rhythm and cadence he knew. Tobias was getting close. Letting go of the headboard with one hand, he palmed his own erection. Steady, sure strokes quickly yanked him to the precipice.
“Oh fuck,” Tobias groaned, and the steady pounding into his ass grew frantic as his wolf’s orgasm topped the peak. Deep inside, the rhythmic pulsing against his prostate tumbled Roman over the edge. His shout of release was quickly echoed by the wolf’s triumphant howl. Hot semen splashed over his abs followed closely by Tobias’s weight.
“God, I missed you,” Tobias breathed against his neck, exactly in the spot where he would bite if he were vampire.
“So I hear,” Roman answered, letting his hands travel up so his fingers could thread through Tobias’s hair. His male went still for a heartbeat, and then two before bracing on his arms and withdrawing from Roman’s body. He carefully lay down on his side, his head propped on the palm of his bent arm. Forced to let go of the silky hair, Roman trailed his hands over warm, sweaty flesh. Tobias studied him.
“Who told you?” Tobias finally asked.
“Your dad, when I called him earlier.” Roman shifted so they lay face to face. “What I want to know is why you didn’t tell me.”
“There was nothing to tell…”
“Cut the bullshit, Toby. Your dad wouldn’t lie to me, and I could see the evidence with my own eyes. That’s why I called him.” Roman spoke low and kept his hands on Tobias the entire time. From what Jorn had told him, touching was vital. Even in the few hours his wolf had been here, he already saw a change in him. And, while it hurt to know he was the cause of Tobias’s malaise, it filled him with awe that the male loved him so much that just being near Roman fed his spirit.
Instead of answering his question, Tobias broke eye contact and trailed a finger over Roman’s pecs. “You always had an excuse not to come. What was I supposed to do? Beg? I’m a Beta to the most powerful wolf on the planet, Rom. I don’t beg my lover to come see me.”
Roman swallowed the snappy comeback to the last part and focused on the first question. “You were supposed to tell me. Nothing could have kept me away if I’d known.”
“But, something did keep you away, and it wasn’t enclave business,” Tobias reproved. “I’m not stupid, Roman. I know excuses when I hear them. I thought maybe you’d changed your mind.”
“What the fuck?” Roman careened up off the mattress, glaring down at Tobias’s surprised face. “Changed my mind? I stayed away because you were threatened, because I was terrified he was going to hurt you.” Roman swung his legs off the bed and stood up to pace. Tobias planted himself squarely in his path.
“Who was going to hurt me? What the hell are you talking about De Sangue?” Tobias asked.
“Don’t call me that,” Roman spat,
and then took a deep breath. He moved forward and wrapped his arms around Tobias’s waist before resting his forehead against the wolf’s furrowed brow. At first, Tobias stood rigid, but his arms soon linked around Roman’s waist.
“Darklon. My supposed father threatened to attack you. The night the treaty was signed when I left with him. He took me someplace in the mountains. He had the King’s mistress chained there. She’d been beaten and tortured and Creator only knows what else.” Roman shivered at the awful memories roiling through his head.
“He told me that if I didn’t stay away from you, he’d do the same to you. He was appalled that we would dare contaminate the vampire race with wolf’s blood. He was, no he is, fucking crazy, and he had one of your shirts. He said it would be just as easy to take you the next time. I couldn’t let him hurt you so I stayed away.” Roman said.
“You were worried about me? What about the possible Queen? Roman, you have to tell Denali,” Tobias nearly shrieked.
“He knows, or Arial does. I’ve gone back, and she’s not there anymore. Darklon has disappeared. He missed the last council meeting and no one has seen him. Believe me, Denali has been looking.” Roman clarified.
“So you stayed away from me because of some senile old man?” Tobias meant to tease, but Roman immediately agreed.
“Yes. Senile and crazy, he definitely is,” he explained. “But, he’s also got more power than any vampire except our King. He’s old and with age comes strength. He could waltz into your den and take you without anyone noticing a thing.”
Tobias’s arms tightened around him. “It seems we’re both guilty of lack of communication. Don’t you think I needed to be aware of such a threat?” Roman grimaced, hating to agree because that knowing smirk he loved and hated would curve his wolf’s too lush mouth.
“We’re together now, and there’s a perfectly good bed being wasted,” he teased instead.
“Cheeky vampire. You hate to be wrong don’t you?” Tobias taunted right back.
“Last one in has to b…” Warm lips cut off Roman’s words, but he didn’t complain. Tobias took full advantage of his acquiesce.
~*~*~*~
Chapter Thirty-One
~*~*~*~
Anchorage, Alaska
Restless after being stuck downstairs all day while the sun trekked across the sky, Copi gave up on the notion of sleep. The forced inactivity grated on his nerves, and the four walls were starting to shrink around him. Vischeral refused to entertain the thought of him returning home, and something about the big bastard convinced Copi he was right.
He glanced over at the bed where his partner lay still as death. Probably because he is dead. The inner voice touted, causing Copi to curse. He was living with an honest to fucking God vampire and had been for months. The first week, his curiosity had gotten the better of him. He’d hovered over the man searching for any sign of life. But, there had been no breath, no heartbeat, just a shell set as if in stone. The novelty had quickly worn off, and his agitation increased every day.
Charged with energy and sporting a massive erection, he slipped from the bed and strode to the compact bathroom nestled in a small corner of the large room. Vischeral had a sweet setup; everything he needed while trapped by the sun. He’d even made room in the mini fridge so Copi could store food and drink. It still gave him the willies to open the door and see the bags of blood stacked so neatly next to the ham and cheese. He’d offered Vischeral his own blood, but the vampire refused despite the very tangible look of hunger in his eyes.
Stripping, he stepped into the small stall and twisted the silver knobs. The hot water felt good sliding over his sensitive skin. He closed his eyes and imagined it to be Vischeral’s large hands gliding over him. As the image of that dark head bobbing at his hips rose in his mind, Copi groaned. Vischeral had been very careful not to touch him since their return from the cave and the feeding. Copi didn’t understand why Vischeral denied them both, and he damned sure wasn’t going to implore the man to take him. But fuck, he wanted him; wanted to feel that massive weight crushing him down into the mattress and that long thick cock buried in his ass.
Unconsciously, he wrapped his own fingers around his length. The warmth of the shower, Vischeral’s wood smoke and vanilla scent and his own familiarity with the act soon had him hissing his release as hot come spattered against the tile. His shoulders sagged, and the water washed away the evidence of his lack of self-control. He lingered until the heat disappeared, but the cold water showed no sign of diminishing his still painfully engorged cock.
After a quick and harsh scrub down with the towel, he searched the closet only to find his supply of clothes was all housed in the hamper. With a curse, he snagged a Vischeral sized Anchorage PD sweat suit. He slipped it on without bothering with underwear and grimaced at the prominent outline of his stiffness.
He refused to palm himself a second time in an attempt to milk himself dry. The need for Vischeral's weighted stare and unearthly touch far outweighed any self-help measures he could provide. Instead, he wandered the underground cavern exploring the same area he’d paced for months. The unsolved cases played havoc with his brain. Bits and pieces of the cases ebbed and flowed. Desperately, he tried to piece together the information so they could find the killer and stop the panic slowly taking over Anchorage. Finding the murderer would also spring him from his gilded cage. The question was; did he want to be sprung.
Spearing a hand through his damp hair, he headed for the office area. Everything technologically available had been installed and integrated into the underground chamber. Copi always stood both enthralled and somewhat overwhelmed by the complexity of his partner’s at home work space. One thing was for sure; the cock savvy son of a bitch vampire had to be related to fucking Einstein to understand some of the tech shit set up down there. The bastard owned enough equipment to monitor and survey a fucking small country.
“Shit,” Copi breathed on a long winded exhale, or rather to survey the city he called home. On the monitors, he recognized various parts of Anchorage including the department. He spit out another few curses when he realized not one, but four cameras were trained on his house. No wonder Vischeral usually made sure to turn everything off when he went to sleep.
Shaking his head in disbelief at the over protectiveness of his partner, Copi glanced down to see case files labeled in Bourne’s neat handwriting. All of the murders directly connected to the serial killer were in one stack. A second stack contained the possibles. Copi’s stomach rolled. Based on the carnage in the cave, they had managed to switch over numerous files to the first stack. He expected the others to get switched over pretty damn fast.
He sat down and flipped open the top file, Clara DeFoe. The same information stashed in his folder back at the station stared up at him with the exception of neat notes jotted in the margins. Although he knew Vischeral was vampire and his partner had told him the killer was a shifter, the notes chilled his blood.
He read everything and moved on to the next in the stack. Hours passed, and he grew stiff from sitting still, but the intelligence behind Vischeral’s midnight black eyes tied him to his chair. By the time he finished reading, he held a new respect for the vampire asleep in the big bed behind him.
Bourne had no reason to help humans. As one of the most efficient predators in the world, he had no natural enemies. But, his notes and insights on each of the victims spoke of more than a predator. Deep down, Bourne clung to his humanity the only way he could, by protecting the human population from themselves. Copi also knew that without the vampire, the Anchorage PD had little hope in Hell of stopping the rogue wolf.
He leaned back and stretched. A glance at the clock showed three in the afternoon. His stomach grumbled, protesting his lack of attention to his diet. He crossed the room to the small refrigerator. The bags of blood inside brought him up short for all of a second. It was a sight he was going to have to get used to if he expected to continue whatever was going on with Bourne. His min
d ticked back over the months they’d been partners and forced roommates. He’d never seen Bourne take blood, but then his partner hadn’t wanted him to either. Trust Vischeral to know Copi was squeamish about his required eating habits.
A soft ding drew his attention away from the contents of the fridge. One of the monitors began to zoom in on what looked like—fuck! Copi's house, the back door to be exact. A looming shadow passed across the porch doors. By its size, Copi thought it was a man, but when the wolf emerged carrying something red, Copi stumbled back hard against the wall.
He struggled to draw breath. His entire frame trembled with anger and dread. The wolf was in his house, was tracking his scent. Vischeral’s words slammed into him. The wolf was indeed hunting him. The months of forced confinement with the vampire had been necessary. Why the fuck hadn’t Bourne told him? But then, he had. Countless times.
Copi glanced again at the still form on the bed. Suddenly, Bourne’s refusal to allow him to even visit his home made sense. He’d been protecting Copi the only way he could, by hiding him away from the wolf. The thought didn’t sit well with Copi. He was a seasoned police detective who’d survived the mean streets of New York both as a juvenile delinquent and a beat cop. Yeah, but there weren’t any wolves roaming the streets either. Copi sneered. Sometimes, he really fucking hated that inner voice.
With a frown etched on his face, he turned back and searched the panel of buttons. Methodically, he punched a series of keys until the picture froze. His gaze wandered over the wolf cataloguing everything. Its enormous mutated frame filled the camera. The bastard stood at least five feet tall at the highest point of his shoulders, and had to weigh in at over two hundred and fifty pounds. The Alaskan timber wolf at its largest was no more than one hundred and forty-five pounds and roughly on average three to three and a half feet tall. What Copi stared at on the monitor was no normal wolf. It was little wonder the forensics lab delivered inconclusive results.