by Renee Rose
“Call off your dog,” he says to the king.
Frangelico raises a brow. You don’t give orders to the king.
“I’m not a dog,” I growl. “I’m a bear.” My grizzly’s about to burst from my skin and brawl in the middle of the club. We’ll see how sturdy the furniture actually is.
“Augustine,” Frangelico drawls with mild disapproval. I tense up. I’ve never seen him before, but I know Augustine is one of Frangelico’s lieutenants. “You know as well as I, I do not give him orders. Which is why I hired him. He’s here to make sure you’re following the rules.” And with that, the vampire king turns away, effectively dismissing us.
Augustine’s lip curves up, showing a fang. “I didn’t break the rules.”
“You loaned your girl out to a vampire who was hurting her.” Beside us, the redhead slowly spins from the rope noose around her wrists. Fuck, is that good for her circulation? Welts mar her skin, as numerous as her freckles. Some of them even show spots of blood. Benny really worked her over.
“If she wanted to stop, she’d safe out.” The vampire motions impatiently, and a waiter offers him a drink. Augustine drinks greedily, wiping water from his lips. He doesn’t offer any to his punished submissive.
The redhead is limp, her eyes half closed. I peer into her face, gently raise an eyelid to check her blown pupils. “She’s too far gone to give a safe word.” I may not be into this stuff, but I know how endorphins work. Load after load drops until the submissive is too drugged to even speak.
“She likes it.” The vampire goes to a table and picks up a riding crop. I step between him and the redhead. Between the vampire and his prey. It’s probably the first time anyone’s told this vampire no.
Augustine looks shocked. It’s a good look for him.
“I said stop.”
“Very well. It’s time to eat, anyway.” With a flick of his fingers, he orders another club servant to come forward and loosen the rope around the young woman’s wrists.
She slumps, a cascade of red hair falling over her freckled face. Her head rolls on her neck. She’s totally blissed out from endorphins. Another sweetblood. A submissive, willing vampire victim.
It’s not my business. I shouldn’t get involved. But the redhead’s lips part and she turns toward me and I catch her scent…
And suddenly I know why she caught my interest.
I lean forward. This one is a shifter. Not a wolf or bear, but something close. Fox, maybe. That would match her red hair. I glance between her thighs. She’s mostly shaved but for a small groomed patch. Natural redhead. Definitely a fox.
How did I not notice her animal before? Probably because it’s shy, submissive. Plus all the cloying smells of vampires in the club. Prey animals don’t make themselves known like dominant ones. And this one is sweet as can be. My bear is fighting to burst forth and carry her off to a safe, dark place where he can protect her.
My instincts war a moment. But I have to remember why I’m here. I swallow and step back and act disinterested. A bouncer more concerned with the club’s reputation than protecting a willing sweetblood. “Frangelico know you’re feasting on a shifter?”
“She belongs to me.”
“Shifters don’t belong to vampires.”
“Says the king’s guard bear.”
Technically the vampire king and I have a partnership, but I don’t correct the vampire.
With a wicked smile, Augustine snaps his fingers. A minute later, club servants have provided a seat and handed over Augustine’s submissive. He shifts her in his arms, almost tenderly arranging her limp body as I watch. My fists clench as Augustine’s fingers spear the auburn hair, tugging the woman’s head back to bare her neck. Without ceremony or gentleness, he strikes like a viper, burying his fangs in her neck. Her body convulses but the blissed out look on her face turns to ecstasy.
Fuck this. I pivot and head back to the throne in the center of the room.
“We can make them like it, you know,” Frangelico says. He’s holding a goblet filled with a red liquid. A nice show, but it’s just wine.
A gasp makes me turn again. The redhead thrashes in her vampire master’s arms, ecstasy turning to anguish. Augustine shoots me a nasty look. He’s making it hurt on purpose. The redhead’s hands beat at his suit. Her blood stains her pale skin, his shirt collar. He’s making a mess.
Her cries sharpen, growing frantic.
“Leave her alone,” I growl.
“Augustine,” Frangelico calls softly before I can stomp back over there. The younger vampire turns with a snarl, but lowers his eyes. “Enough,” orders the king, and Augustine bows his head and motions to a club employee to take her away.
“You can’t save them all from my sired’s sadism,” Frangelico murmurs as I watch the redhead disappear behind a curtain of a private alcove. She’s safe now. For the next hour, she’ll be wrapped in a blanket, given orange juice and chocolate and whatever else she needs to come safely down. For a moment, I toy with the idea of shoving aside the curtain, kicking out the club employee, and caring for her myself. I reject the thought as soon as it surfaces. The redhead is cute, but she’s none of my business.
My bear bellows in protest.
When I turn back, the vampire king is watching me closely. I shake my head. “Not gonna save them. Like you said, they like it.”
The king regards me over steepled fingers. “This club caters to all sorts of desires. Some desire pleasure mixed with pain. We have a word for them. Sweetbloods.”
“Yeah, I know.” The vampires love masochists. The pain releases endorphins that make the blood taste sweeter, or some shit. I’m about to tell Frangelico where he can shove his sadism, when a new scent hits my nose. Wolf.
“Frangelico,” a female voice calls. A leather clad she-wolf strides forward, followed by a huge wolf with a pierced eyebrow. Sheridan and Trey. I give Trey my full attention. He and I don’t get along. I used to be a bouncer at his Fight Club but when he found out I also work here, things went sour. Fast.
As soon as Trey sees me, he shows his teeth. His woman puts a hand on his arm and mutters, “Behave.”
“Ah, my dear Sheridan,” Frangelico purrs. “How nice of you to come with your wolf guard.”
“My mate,” she corrects. Her hand automatically goes to her shoulder, covering where he must have marked her. Shit, she and Trey are mated? I open my mouth to congratulate them. Trey glares at me. After what I did, he won't accept anything from me. I close my mouth.
“What brings you to our little club?” Frangelico asks. “Business or pleasure?”
“Business,” Sheridan answers, though she casts a longing look about the club. I don’t get the attraction of this place, but it’s none of my business.
“Come then,” Frangelico motions for more chairs to be brought close. Waiters appear and offer drinks.
“We’re here because we’ve heard rumors. Shifters are disappearing from this area.”
“Wolves?”
“Not wolves. Other types of shifters. Ones that don’t have the protection of a pack.”
“What sort of shifters might those be? Forgive me, I am not as well versed in the animal kingdom as I should be,” Frangelico says. He’s lying, of course. He makes it his business to know everything.
Sheridan swallows and glances at Trey, who nods at her. “A few loner cats who didn’t have a clan. Leopard, tiger. But also rarer shifters—owls, ravens, eagles.”
“Really? There are shifter birds?” Frangelico bluffs really well. Not even I can smell anything but his interest.
Sheridan nods. “They keep quiet because they’re not as plentiful as wolves or big cats. That, and they’re prey animals.”
“And someone is kidnapping them? Didn’t that happen before, when a company was capturing shifters to experiment on?”
“That company is gone. We destroyed their facilities, rooted out the people who were doing it. But there’s still a black market for kidnapped shifters, and we thin
k the shifter traders have found new customers. Vampires.”
Frangelico’s long fingers steeple. He doesn’t move when Sheridan drops this bombshell. Instead, he waits a moment as if making sure she’s finished talking, then stirs. “And what would vampires want with kidnapped shifters?”
“We don’t know. That’s why we’re here.” Before Sheridan can continue, her mate steps forward, tall, tattooed, and intimidating.
“It would be wise for you to look into it, unless you want the pack knocking on your door,” Trey says. Sheridan grabs his arm again.
“What my mate means,” she says with a fixed smile, “is that given the Tucson pack’s alliance with you and your vampires, it would be wise to join forces to look into the shifter disappearances. For the sake of keeping the peace.”
“Indeed.” Frangelico flicks a glance at Trey, then turns back to Sheridan. “You do have a flair for diplomacy, my dear,” Frangelico tells her.
“Thank you,” she answers levelly. “But I’m not your dear.”
Frangelico ignores her growl. “We will look into it.” He glances at me. I nod back. By we the king means me. And I’m okay with hunting down vampires who have bought kidnapped shifters. I know just where I’ll start—Augustine and his little redheaded sub.
“That’s settled,” Frangelico announces. “Now that your business is concluded you are welcome to make use of my club. Will you stay and scene tonight?”
Sheridan hesitates, her gaze darting around the dimly lit club with poorly hidden interest.
“Yes.” Trey steps between her and the vampire king. “As long as everyone remains on their best behavior.”
“I’m sure my vampires will,” Frangelico offers with a glint of fang.
“And your pet shifters?” Trey looks at me.
“I have no pets shifters. Only friends and…playmates,” Frangelico says.
“Which one is he?” Trey asks, still staring at me.
“A business partner,” I offer.
“I’m sure Grizz will also respect the rules of the club, and all its members.” Frangelico raises an eyebrow at me.
I hold my hands up. “I got no problems with these wolves.” Last I checked, I didn’t have a problem with the wolves. It’s not my fault the wolves have a problem with me.
“Good,” Frangelico claps his hands and Sheridan jumps. Trey puts his hands on her shoulders, steadying her. He leans in and whispers something in her ear. She flushes. Trey turns her and gives her a gentle push towards a free table. He watches her strut away. I have to admit, if I had a mate as fine as Sheridan, I’d watch her coming and going as long as possible, too.
Trey turns back to me and Frangelico. His eyes narrow on me.
“Hey, Grizz,” his voice drips bitterness. “You still on to fight Friday?”
“Last I checked, I was still on the schedule.” I quit working at the Fight Club as a bouncer a few weeks ago, but fighting is good for my bear.
“Good.” Trey shows his teeth in a macabre grin. “We have a special guest ready to fight you. Be ready.”
I watch him stride away. He’s a big, bad wolf, but not as dangerous as I am. Not alone, anyway. Wolves are never alone. That’s always their advantage. Strength of the pack.
“If that’s all, I’ll head out,” I say to Frangelico.
He nods. “You’re off bouncer duty the rest of the night. Ask Peter to call in a replacement. In the meantime, I’ll make the rounds.”
“Right.” Time to go on the hunt.
I head to the rope where Augustine tied up his shifter sub, where the white robe she wore lies crumpled on the floor. I pick it up and give it a good sniff. The scent is spicy, with a touch of floral. Fox. Definitely. If I can’t track the vampire by his scent, I can at least find the fox.
A few discreet questions later, and I learn the redhead left with Augustine. Her master they called him. Not sure if that means he owns her, or if it’s just a game they play, but I plan to find out. I can get his address from the records Frangelico keeps—I’m one of the few people he gives access to. He knows I’ll never betray him. I need him too much.
Halfway up the stairs to the main floor, I pause and survey the vast club. Trey and Sheridan have already claimed a table under one of the spotlights. Trey has opened a black duffel bag and is laying out implements. Sheridan stands beside him, her bare skin glowing in a fancy leather harness, swaying a little with excitement.
Trey finishes and turns towards her. He snaps his fingers and she falls to her knees, gazing up at her mate. I don’t need to see her face to know that her eyes are shining. Trey’s face softens as he looks down at her. Another couple stealing a moment before they engage in the complicated mating dance of submission and dominance. I’ve seen it a million times before, but somehow it’s not as grotesque on shifters. That still doesn’t mean I get it.
I climb the rest of the stairs and hit the door with my fist to escape.
Chapter 2
Grizz
Augustine lives in a fancy neighborhood in Oro Valley, up against the Catalina Mountain range. I park my motorcycle, climb the wall, and scan the backyard. Huge pool, fancy patio. But beyond the stone bar and grill and deck furniture, there’s a regular door. It’ll be easy enough to kick it in.
I take a moment to slip past the cameras. No flood lights on the lawn—vampires can see in the dark. Luckily, so can shifters. I hunker down into the bushes and wait.
Vampires are at their strongest at night and I find they’re a bit sluggish closer to daybreak. Not Frangelico—he’s old enough that he can stay awake until the first ray of dawn. But even his oldest sired are well inside by the dark hour before sunrise.
So I crouch until soft light glows in the sky just beyond the mountains. After taking a swig from my flask, I amble to the back door and let myself in. It’s unlocked—you’d have to be crazy to steal from a vampire. Most save all their defenses and booby traps for their sleeping lairs, which is why I want to catch Augustine here awake. He won’t expect it. After a life of hunting vampires, I know what brings them down. Hubris. They’re the biggest, baddest predator on Earth, and they know it. They don’t realize otherwise—until I’m standing over them with a stake.
Of course, I don’t have orders to kill Augustine. Just question him. He might live if Frangelico likes his answers. Frangelico hates killing his sired because, according to him, it’s difficult to make new ones.
The house is cool, clean, and scented like lemon. I search the rooms, but they’re unused. Perfectly decorated but they smell empty. I open the fridge—a few decanters of blood, and a half drunk bottle of wine, but nothing else.
The vampire isn’t here. He probably sleeps elsewhere. Unless I want to catch him partying or fully awake, this is a dead end. Not that I expected it to be easy.
Beside the fridge is a bag of dog food. An expensive type—real wild caught meat or something. I take a moment and tune into the scent below the cold stone smell of the vampire. That’s when I catch the familiar musk.
Dog. Or something close. Not wolf.
Skin prickling, I head to the tiled pantry. In the corner, a colorful Mexican blanket covers a large structure. A cage.
The monster bear in my chest starts to rumble. Not a growl, but a low soothing sound.
I flip up the serape and there’s my little fox. Crumpled, still in human form. Naked but for the white collar. She’s shivering.
My bear rumbles louder.
I open the cage. She winces at the loud metal scrape, her eyes squeezing shut, her body contracting into the smallest point possible. There are still a few marks on her pale skin, though most have faded. Thank fuck she’s a shifter not a human. The dom really worked her over for her to still be healing.
And then he left her in a cage. My body shakes with my bear’s grumbling. I rip the blanket off the cage and cover her with it.
“Master?” she asks in the softest whisper. Her quavering voice touches me light as fingers. Fuck, I’m hard.
“I’m not your master,” I answer her gruffly. I’m so pissed, my bear is ready to burst from my skin and tear down this mansion room by room. What kind of asshole leaves his sub to go through sub drop alone? Not just alone, but trembling in a cage? With nothing but dog food to feed her?
“Come here,” I order. She responds instantly, crawling closer.
“Closer,” I encourage before I can think about what I’m doing. “Come to me. All the way, kit. Out of the cage.”
Eyes still closed, she crawls out of the cage, straight into my arms. “That’s it.” I automatically cradle her close. As soon as her small body tucks against my chest, my bear’s angry commentary quiets into a low bass note. He’s purring. I didn’t know he could do that.
The woman rubs her face against my t-shirt, burrowing. Still on autopilot, I rest a palm on her head, guiding her to settle.
With a sigh, the little submissive relaxes.
“Good girl,” I murmur. The words are right there on the tip of my tongue. I’ve watched enough scenes at the club to know what to say, but I spoke them easily, without thinking. Her breathing slows, her mouth grows lax. Her eyes are still closed, so I don’t know the exact moment she falls asleep.
All I know is I’m standing inside a mansion I broke into, my arms full of a vampire’s pet, and I can’t let go. For the first time in a long time, my bear has found someone to hold.
Jordy
The rumbling under my ears fills my world. Cool air hits my face and then I’m tucked into a seat and strapped in. Two doors slam, one after another, and a big presence fills the space beside me.
I say the first word that’s usually on my lips. “Master?”
“I’m not your master,” the voice growls and my eyes fly open.
A scarred face greets me. He’s glowering at me and I lower my eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” he snarls and I duck my head. “No, fuck, don’t do that.”
I peer at him.
He’s rubbing his chest. “You’re all right. You’re safe with me.” He puts the truck in gear and pulls from the curb.