“No, sir,” Ethan says, echoing my thoughts.
“Very well, shall we get on with it?” With that, we all pile out and make our way up to the giant doors of the mansion sitting impossibly off the side of the mountain.
Music vibrates from the structure, along with laughter and other musings of a good time.
“Now, I must warn ye two. The ladies aren’ gonna be able ta keep their hands off ye on account of ye being so close ta the change. Yer virgin blood just sweetens the call for them.”
“How do you know that?” I challenge, not appreciating our virginity being spoken about in front of the guys.
Niall’s boisterous laugh echoes around the porch as he knocks once. “Tis nothin’ ta be ashamed of. Ye’d be surprised on all tat we can smell on ye. Enjoy it while ye can and perhaps ye two will find a lass worth givin' it up for tonight.” Niall continues to chuckle to himself as the door opens and a tall man with a masquerade mask steps out.
“Niall! You old bastard! Haven’t seen you in a decade!” The two embrace and begin to rapidly talk in some other language that doesn’t sound anything like I have ever heard. Its ancient undertones and odd clicks make it impossible to place. Ethan and I exchange glances as we build our confidence for this. Sure, we aren’t completely innocent, having frequented many frat parties and such. But, with school and basketball, we have always been focused and tame compared to our buddies.
Finally, the two turn to us as if just remembering we are there. “It’s a pleasure to meet the grandsons of this fine man. Please, do come in!” The man opens the door wide, exposing its interior. Oh, snap.
Dance music blares to life as moving bodies line every surface in the flickering of the strobe lights. Beautiful bodies—the hottest women I’ve ever seen coming from all directions. Booze and food seems to be everywhere, and there is a notable lack of clothing, too. Ethan’s eyes are bugging out of his head as both of our mouths hit the ground.
“Well, then, I take it ye two will be joining us then?” Niall claps us both on the back and guides us into the wonderland. I am pretty sure we just died and went to heaven.
As we huddle in through the door, a whirlwind of women in miniskirts and pasties strip off our coats and herd us further into the depth of stirring figures. Niall stops one of the waitresses, relieves her of her tray of drinks, and passes them out to our group as my eyes hungrily rake across as many pairs of tits as they can at once. Bringing the fizzy, weird-colored beverage to my nose, I sniff it, trying to figure out what it is.
“Go on and down it, lad. It ain’ gonna make ye sick. Probably make ye two feel better.”
“What is it?” Ethan suspiciously eyes the liquid in the flute.
“A little of this, a little of tat. Some champagne and blood orange for taste.”
“The herbs in it will get you drunk faster. You are going to find that alcohol isn’t going to affect you the same,” Antoine informs us.
With a shrug, I take a sip. Normal food and drink has been making our stomachs turn unless Molly makes it. A sweet and spicy flavor explodes over my tongue and my body greedily demands more, quite happy with whatever this is. Upending the glass, I make to down the thing, eager for what lies at the bottom and grateful for the salvation. A hand comes up and lowers my glass, making me growl as I try to fight the steel grip in a futile attempt for more nectar.
“Easy there, ye need ta slow down or ye will end up under the table before the night even begins.” As if to add to his words, my whole body begins to warm and sweat beads on my brow. “See? There it is.” Niall chuckles and sips from his own glass. Ethan joins him in an extreme display of self-control that I am fighting to have. What the hell? Why is my body fighting me so bad? Where the hell is my discipline? My coach would be severely disappointed in me right now.
My head begins to swirl as the lights flash and the bass blares in my ears, adding to the off-kilter effect. Breasts and long-legged beauties consume my vision as I try to make sense of the world around us.
“Alright, young lads, let us find some seats and enjoy the view why ye find yer sea legs.”
Niall, Tristan, and Antoine guide us through the crowd and to a lounge area full of vampires grinding on one another.
Niall clears his voice in a scary, deep way, and the area quickly clears within seconds. That’s a helpful trick. Tristan steers me into a cocktail chair while Ethan lands in the one next to me with an oomph, his drink finally hitting him. Niall makes a motion with his hand, and two model-looking chicks land in Ethan’s and my laps.
Stunned, I just sit there as the brunette’s hair flips into my face as she begins to give me an enthusiastic lap dance, making me go hard instantly. Before I know it, she drops to her knees before me and unzips my pants. I want to freak out; I want to jump up and run away. Sure, yeah, I’ve had a blow job and made out with a cheerleader or two, but I am still a virgin with no experience and shit just got real. And this chick has more on her mind than a blow job judging by the couples now screwing on various surfaces all around.
Before her traveling fingers can pull down my boxers, Tristan comes up behind her, grabs a fistful of her hair, aggressively yanks her head back, and growls something into her ear. Her eyes darken as fear flits over her face. She nods compliantly before turning her hungry gaze back on me.
“Would you like me to take care of that for you?” she asks and flicks her eyes to my raging hard-on, waiting for permission. When I glance over at my twin, Ethan is unapologetically lounged back, hands behind his head, fully enjoying the attention the blonde is now giving him.
Thoughts of the strawberry blonde pang my heart as guilt rips through me. Liz’s wicked brown eyes flash in my mind from the last time we kissed. “Nah, I’m good.” I quickly zip myself up. Grabbing my drink, I down it, ignoring the brunette’s hurt face and the other guys' curious eyes, clearly not understanding why I turned that down. A waitress magically appears, takes my glass, and hands me another as Ethan stands, rights his pants, and lets the blonde lead him away. Antoine jumps up and follows them, the ever-present chaperone. Not sure why, I move a seat over and lean into Tristan.
“What’s that about?” I nod their way.
“Your brother is about to hand in his V-card and we have to make sure no one feeds from you two.”
I feel the color drain from my face as things line up and reality becomes all too fucking real. Dark thoughts hinge on the edge of my mind and my anger lurks. Is this how it’s going to be from now on?
“Relax, it’s not forever, just until you turn. Then, you can fuck and feed with whomever. Gotta go.” Tristan spies a voluptuous redhead in a mini dress about a hundred feet away and takes off.
“Looks like the two of us.” Niall sinks deeper into his seat, enjoying his buzz and quite unaffected by the lively, sex-filled environment.
“You don’t want to go get some ass like the rest of them?” I gruffly ask.
“I’m good, but if ye want ta join yer brother, don’t let me stop ye.”
“Thanks, but I’m good.” My distaste rings out in my words.
“Don’ be cross with him. He’s young and just wants ta have fun.”
“No offense, but I hoped he’d want to make it more meaningful than this.” Images of the beautiful strawberry blonde warm me once more, and thoughts of losing myself in her light have me going hard again.
“Ta each their own. Everyone processes differently. I’d like ta think I’m a bit better these days, but I went through an irresponsible time too.”
“Is that when you knocked up our grandmother?”
Niall suddenly looks sad. “Straight ta the point, I see. No, she was me turning point. She was the love of me life. Me folk’s didn’ see it tat way, and they saw good and well tat it didn’t last.”
“I’m sorry, Niall, that sucks.” I have no idea what else to say.
“Promise me somethin’. Promise me tat whoever she is, ye man up and go for it no matter what.”
“There’s n
o one, but thanks.” My attention shifts back to the contents in my glass.
“Sure there’s not, and I was born yesterday.” Niall grunts as the ice in his glass clinks against the rim.
“It’s complicated.”
“Love always is.”
“Yeah, and it never seems to work out the way you think.”
“If it did, it wouldn’ be true love.”
“Sure.”
“Yer gonna have ta let the human go, son.”
How the fuck does he know that? I just stare at him, stunned.
“I know more than ye want to know I know. Let her go and follow yer heart on the other one.”
“I can’t do that. I made a promise.”
“Whate’er that young promise may be, ‘twas made in a bed of innocence. Circumstances change.”
“I’ve loved her my whole life.”
“We love many people throughout our lives. Movin’ forward doesn’ mean ye love her any less. It is because ye love her tat you let her go ta live her life. Ye can’ be a part of tat life with her, not after ye change. Trust me, lad, let her go and follow yer heart now while ye still can. You’d be doin’ her a favor too.”
On that note, we both down another drink and fall into a drunken stupor as the world vividly continues around us in a blur of bodies, lights, and sounds.
Chapter 8
“Surrender is faith that the power of love can accomplish anything even when you cannot foresee the outcome.” ~Deepak Chopra
Etienne
We had barely arrived home before Sasha began to rise from her stupor to fight me on a bath. She simply wanted to curl into our bed, bloodied, tattered clothes and all. I couldn’t allow that to happen. It is my job to care for her and she isn’t quite settled back into her right mind after absorbing that amount of power. Fight as she may, she isn’t winning on this one.
Carrying her wiggling, half-conscious frame into the bath, I set her upon the vanity stool and prepare the jetted tub. She’s barely been able to keep her eyes open and decided to slump over the marble countertop as I ready the water and strip us both. Once satisfied that everything is ready, I stoop to cradle her. Thankfully, her groggy, barely coherent body doesn’t put up a fight once her worn flesh comes to rest against mine. Gently, I submerge us into the lavender-scented water. She moans in delight as I bathe her. Even though she’s remained in an unusual, dream-like state, part of her is cognizant. My cock kicks at the sound of her bliss, but I quickly temper the thought as I run a wash cloth over her back and pick all the debris from her flowing locks.
Disconnected from my emotions and focused solely on the task at hand, I gently tend to her—cleansing every glorious inch of my mate as if she were fine china before rinsing, drying, and tucking her into our bed. I am on complete autopilot as I work, all thoughts or emotions tempered by overwhelming exhaustion and inability to lend an ounce of energy to any of it. As the weight of her body settles against the satin sheets with a contented sigh, my hands pull the duvet up around her form. Staring vacantly at the small, sleeping figure now nestled under a disproportionate amount of covers, my body sags and turns to throw on some sweats.
It was initially my intention to join her and slip into a blessed unconscious state but alas, here I sit, alone in my study, staring off into the unknown. As much as I want to rest, that time will not come until the misfits finally drag their sorry selves in. Some chaperones I assigned to the twins. It is already seven in the morning, and there has been no sign of any of them. It feels like it should be much later in the day considering all that has taken place in the last twenty-four hours, but no, time moves on like molasses.
Sasha had risen from the ground just after five this morning. She time warped us home in moments, a feat I have yet to understand. The enormity of the responsibility now sitting upon my shoulders begins to feel like an unmovable, suffocating boulder.
Forced hushes sound out from the back door as three sets of unstable feet attempt to sneak down the hall. Niall is leading the boys and they all reek of alcohol. The pungent smell entered the house long before they did. I’ve never minded a nip here and there, hence my nightcap routine, but I’ve never cared for consuming large quantities to the point of losing control. Occasionally it has been known to happen on my end, but it is overall seen as reckless in my book, especially during times like these.
The stumbling ricochets down the hall as someone runs into the wall… and my priceless art no doubt. The clambering of metal and clumsy hands continues as someone tries to right the frame. Scratching and thumping mixes with subtle curses, followed by an eruption of uncontrolled sniggering resounding from all three, causing my head to fall heavy into my hands as I wait. Finally, after a slow, misguided attempt that drags on like nails on a chalkboard, Niall rounds them up to their rooms. Sighing heavily, my frame falls back into my chair and my hands clasp behind my neck. My, how simple and clean cut life had been before that fated day in my dearly departed comrade’s room. Now, I am quite certain my mate and all that comes with her will age me a few centuries quite soon, ensuring me an early grave. Two heavy, foreboding sets of feet soon follow the dissipated racket and hover outside my door. Their emotions are lit up with fear, stirring something murky within my grid, in a joyous way. Fuck this battle—will it never end? Or shall it continue to haunt me into said early grave?
“Come in.” Exhaustion sounds through my hoarse voice across the threshold to Tristan and Antoine. Poor bastards thought they had it in. I knew, however, that Niall was the one to pull his multiple forms of rank, grandfather included, on them. My desire to play with their emotions and taste their terror beckons wickedly, fighting my logic and reason—the obscurity taking advantage of my conflicted state.
They take their time before entering, the seconds ticking by. Tension and unease come off them in waves as they hesitantly come in and take a seat across from my desk. Flexing my metaphysical muscles, I waste no time reaching into their cortexes and pulling forth their fear… and respect. Like dribbling a basketball, I bounce it around, back and forth, slamming it to the forefront, before letting it fall a ways back. They begin to sweat and shiver, yet hold firm on the edges of their seats as their eyes track mine, resolve to endure whatever I choose to dish out evident. Antoine’s shaking, damp hand slips off the arm of his chair before he smoothly attempts to recover.
Breathing in deep, I allow their permeating emotions to flow into my lungs as I taste the bitter sweetness, allowing it to roll throughout, saturating every cell of my being and satiate that in which I keep under lock and key. After a few minutes of torture, I slip back out of their minds and allow them to stew in their mixed emotions, the silence deafening as my body revels in the mental feeding. I may retreat from time to time or seem despondent or impartial, but there is never any doubt in my warriors’ minds who is boss. Situations like this allow me to fortify that message. And as fidgety as Tristan is now becoming, he knows damn well not to say a fucking word until I’ve spoken first. Hence, the never-ending silence now stretching between us.
“I assume Niall had something to do with your extended absence?” I arch a brow and indifferently run my tongue over a fang as my fingers steeple together. Relief washes over them as they sit back a tad further into their seats, their wrinkled dress clothes staled with hints of bar odors and goddess knows what else.
Antoine, being the senior recruit, speaks first. “Yes, My Lord, he… took things to another level.”
“Of course he did. Did you not think it appropriate to notify your taxiarchos? Last I checked you are not of that rank. If you cannot be bothered to follow protocol, I am not sure that your training will be able to continue.” Horror and panic flood them at a whirlwind speed, telling me where their loyalties continue to lie.
“Sir—sorry, My Lord—we didn’t want to interrupt your mission,” Tristan fumbles, and Antoine shoots him a severely disappointing glare.
“My mission was of no concern to you, nor is any of my future endeavo
rs. You had your assignment. You will learn your place, follow protocol, and report to your senior eren should your assignment have any sort of hiccup or it will not end with a simple conversation again. Do I make myself clear?” I sneer as I pull on their rising panic and make certain the meaning falling between the words seeped deep into their core fiber.
All they can manage is a simple nod in compliance as the thought of being tortured and banned from ever climbing the ranks within the eren brotherhood has them turning quite pale. Excellent. “Niall might be a strategi and outrank you in every sense, but he is not your direct report. You will notify your officer and allow it to flow up the chain to be dealt with properly. If there is a weak link in the chain, you contact Erik immediately. As I said, there will be no conversation should there ever be a next time. Now, you will regale me with full details of your debauchery.”
For the next fifteen minutes, the two filled me in on every last filthy detail as I kept my finger on their minds, making sure only truth came forward. “Very well, I will take it from here. Let us all retire; I am done with this.”
“Sir, may I ask a question?” Tristan begins to squirm uncomfortably in his seat again.
Damn, this young one is about to piss me off. “Proceed.” The words grit through my teeth.
“Did you find your mate? Is she okay?” Genuine concern and something else licks the air, changing the tune.
“We did and she is quite well. Anything else?” I sarcastically reply as I sift through his now-relieved emotions and… fondness for Sasha?
Well, well, it seems someone has a bit of a crush on her. Jealousy would be an easy thing to give into for a lesser male, but that is unnecessary. The boy can’t help how he feels, and he knows I’d outright kill him without a second thought if he ever tried anything distasteful. They shake their heads and I wave them off, quickly dismissing them from the premises so that I can get some rest. Between Erik, Molly, Sasha, her boys, Niall, and Roman, we had an almost full house.
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