Shift of Fate

by Elisa Adams

  “You have no idea what type I am. You don’t know anything about me.”

  “I know enough.” She tried to sound calm and soothing, but could barely manage it through the stress and anger. “Look, I know you’re going through a lot right now, but you need to get over it. You called Royce and me for something, and that hasn’t been accomplished yet. We need to work together to take care of Calusius before he tears down the whole town. He told me he wants to take me back with him, and I’ve got to tell you I’m not giving up without a fight.”

  Wil’s shoulders drooped and he leaned back against the wall. “I honestly don’t care what happens.”

  “Then do it for Michelle. She got mixed up in something she couldn’t control. Help me get this guy, and you can get him back for what he did to her. I promise.”

  He glanced at her, anger filling his heated expression. “Yeah, okay.”

  She smiled.

  “I’ll stay and we’ll take care of this, but after that I’m gone.”

  She didn’t blame him. Sometimes too much change happened too quickly, and a person had to move on. “What can I do to help you through this?”

  Wil mumbled something unintelligible and walked out of the room.

  “I’ll talk to him. You, stay here.” Royce shook his head and started after Wil. “I know you’re trying, but you’re really not helping.”

  Huh. She flopped down on the couch and rested her head in her hands. Could this get any worse?

  Yes. Of course it could. As much as she liked to think she could handle things on her own, she knew better than to believe that. She took her cell phone out of her purse and dialed Sam’s number. He’d know what to do. He always did.

  She listened to the phone ring six times before his voicemail picked up. “You’ve reached Sam Kincaid. Leave a message.”

  “Nothing like getting right to the point, Sam,” she mumbled, waiting for the tone. “Hey, Sam. I need you to call me as soon as you get in. It’s really, really important. Crucial. Vital. I need help.”

  She hit the end button and tapped the phone against her forehead. Hopefully he hadn’t gone out of town on a job. If so, she might not hear from him for days.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Merida stood in the kitchen window, watching Wil pace the backyard. The sun had set an hour ago and he’d been out there ever since, walking aimlessly, staring out into space. He hadn’t gone to bed at all since getting the phone call about Michelle, and that worried her. He’d come back downstairs a few minutes after she’d called Sam, dropped onto the couch and turned the TV on. He spent the whole day staring blankly at the screen.

  “Is he still out there?” Royce asked as he stepped up next to her and parted the curtains further to look out into the yard.

  “Yeah.” She let the curtain drop and slid onto one of the stools at the counter bar. “Do you think he’s going to be okay?”

  Royce alarmed her further by shrugging. “I have no idea. But if he doesn’t snap out of this funk soon, he’s going to do a lot of harm to himself. Don’t say anything, but with all the stress of the last week or so, he hasn’t been feeding regularly. Coupled with the fact that he didn’t sleep all day…I just don’t want to see him hurt himself.”

  “What can we do to help?”

  A cough drew her attention to the back door, where Wil stood leaning against the doorframe. “There’s nothing you can do.”

  She shook her head. “There’s got to be something. You need a decent meal and a long rest, and then you’ll be as good as new.”

  “Yeah, right.” He pulled out the stool next to her and sat down, leaning his arms on the counter. “It’s easy for you to say, since you’re not about to be accused of murder.”

  Royce propped his hip on the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “No one’s accusing you of anything.”

  “No. Not yet. But I’ve worked for the police department long enough to know how it works.” Wil closed his eyes for a few seconds. When he opened them, he didn’t even try to hide the raw pain in his gaze. “There aren’t any other suspects, and I don’t have an alibi.”

  Not knowing how to respond, Merida looked over to Royce. He just shook his head. “When’s the last time you fed?” he asked his friend.

  Wil shrugged without looking up from the countertop. “It’s been a while. I don’t know. I haven’t been keeping track.”

  “You do know. How long has it been, Wil? You look like shit.”

  Wil barked a laugh, this time glancing in Royce’s direction. “You aren’t exactly a beauty queen, Cardoso.” He paused and drew a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “It’s been a couple of days. Nothing I can’t handle.”

  “Bullshit. You haven’t been handling things at all for the last couple of days. You want me to go out with you? We can find some—”

  Wil pushed away from the counter, shoving the stool back so hard that it toppled and hit the floor with a crash. “I haven’t needed a parent in centuries, and I certainly don’t need one now. Mind your own fucking business.”

  Merida glanced at him. He didn’t look fine. He looked like hell—or worse. “I’m here,” she blurted, earning herself a sharp look from Royce. “I can help, if you need me to.”

  Wil turned to look at her slowly, his dark eyes assessing. “What can you do for me?” he asked, his tone hinting at suspicion.

  “You can feed from me.”

  Hope sparked in his eyes, but then he shook his head. “I couldn’t do that to you.”

  Men. Why did they have to be so pigheaded and stubborn? “At this point, I don’t think you have the right to be picky. You never should have let yourself go this long. You have to take what you can get before you’re too weak to feed on your own.”

  He started to protest as Royce stepped around the counter and took Merida’s arm in his hands. He brought her wrist to his mouth, the familiar rush of pleasure and pain running through her as his fangs pierced the skin. She let out a small gasp, her gaze locked with Wil’s as Royce gently suckled her wrist. Wil licked his lips, his eyes darkening and the muscles of his jaw working. Merida’s stomach did a flip-flop as his eyes fell to where Royce’s mouth joined her skin. She tried to tamp down a stirring of arousal that curled inside her, but it wasn’t easy.

  Royce lifted his lips and a drop of blood welled in the wound. She heard Wil’s sharp intake of breath followed by a low groan. She knew from experience that a vampire who hadn’t fed in a while could become out of control very quickly. The thought scared her and aroused her at the same time.

  She shot a quick glance in Royce’s direction. What did he have planned?

  “Drink, Wil,” he said softly, moving her wrist in Wil’s direction. Wil held back for all of two seconds before he clamped his mouth over her waiting flesh. He sucked hard, a sharp pain running up the inside of her arm—the effects of a starving, grieving man. She expected anger, maybe jealousy from Royce, yet if he felt the emotions, they didn’t show in his eyes. He looked at her like he wanted to eat her alive. Oh, God. Her mouth went dry and her pulse kicked in double-time.

  “Are you okay with this?” he asked her. She nodded, getting the feeling he was talking about more than Wil’s feeding.

  “Let me know if you aren’t, okay?”

  “I’m fine. Really.” She was better than fine. It was almost too much to take.

  And then Royce moved behind her, his hands moving aside her hair, his lips on the skin where her shoulder joined her neck. When she felt his fangs bite into her, she nearly came. A spasm ran through her cunt and she gasped for air. Before meeting Royce, she hadn’t thought of the whole fang and blood-drinking thing as sexy, but this didn’t compare to anything in her experience—and all they’d touched her with so far were their teeth.

  So far? That nearly pulled her out of her sensual trance. How far did she expect this to go? Did she actually want it to go further than just a group feeding? Did they?

  Wil swirled his tongue around her wrist before
he released her. Her arm flopped down to her side, as limp and useless as the rest of her body. If she hadn’t been sitting, she would have pooled on the floor in a big puddle of hormones.

  “Thank you,” he leaned in and whispered against her cheek, his hot breath tickling her ear. She whimpered, ready to drag Royce upstairs and tear all his clothes off.

  Wil pulled away from her slowly, his lips dragging across her cheek and setting off tiny lines of flame. His gaze locked with hers as he cupped her face in his palm. Her muscles went weak, melted by the heat in his eyes. Moisture pooled in her pussy and she shifted in her seat, the wooden stool growing increasingly more uncomfortable. She expected Wil to walk away, but she should have known better. Nothing in this encounter seemed to go as she’d thought it would.

  He leaned in and kissed her.

  Wil’s lips were firm and warm, full and sensual. She parted her lips in surprise and his tongue snaked into her mouth, swirling with hers. She braced herself for Royce’s angry reaction, but he just stayed behind her, his grip on her shoulders tightening. He’d stopped feeding at some point—she couldn’t remember exactly when—and he traced the lines of her neck with his mouth. She reached back and dug her hands into his hips, pulling him hard against her. His erection pressed into her back as she wriggled against him.

  She felt hands on her breasts, skimming her nipples through her shirt. She almost pulled away, until she realized they were Royce’s hands. Was he okay with this, or did he not see that Wil’s lips kept sucking on hers?

  Wil’s mouth left hers, his tongue dipping into the hollows of her collarbone. She threaded her hands in his dark hair, the silky smooth texture soft against her palms. She didn’t know how long Royce would accept this, or if she should let it continue. All she knew, all she could think about, was that she didn’t want it to end anytime soon.

  “How are you doing?” Royce asked.

  “Um, fine.” For a woman about two seconds away from losing her mind.

  “Stand up,” he told her, stepping back to allow her the space to carry out his request. She stood, but had to grip the edge of the counter for support.

  She didn’t need to worry about falling, though, because almost as soon as she was off the stool Wil pulled her against him, crushing her body to his as he resumed the kiss. Her mind nothing more than a big pile of sensual mush, she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave in. For a few seconds. But then she felt Royce’s chest—and other, harder parts of his body—against her back and she pulled away from Wil, shaking and panting.

  “I’m fine with this,” Royce told her, his mouth against her neck. “If you’re okay with it, it won’t bother me. If you want us to stop, tell me now.”

  Was he asking what she thought? “You mean…all of us?”

  “Yes,” Royce nearly hissed in her ear. “All of us.”

  “Are you out of your mind?” she asked, but the words lacked conviction. In truth, she’d never been so turned on in her life. What woman wouldn’t want two big, gorgeous guys fawning all over her? But she didn’t want to mess everything up with Royce, or ruin his friendship with Wil.

  “Do you want me to stop?” Wil asked, nibbling tiny kisses down the side of her neck. “I can leave and let you two have some time alone to finish this.”

  “Don’t you dare. Not unless you want me to take out your heart with a Popsicle stick,” she blurted without thinking.

  His laugh, and Royce’s, vibrated against her skin, surrounding her in a cocoon of masculine heat.

  “I take it you’re enjoying yourself?” Wil asked between tickling kisses.

  “Like you can’t tell.”

  He smiled at her, a hint of the man she’d met when they first came to Caswell showing through his mask of despair.

  A thought hit her at that moment. They were both a little too comfortable with this situation. They’d eased her into it as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “Is this something the two of you have done together before?”

  Both men froze. She couldn’t see Royce’s face, but he spoke. “We’ve…shared before. Once or twice,” he told her with a teasing edge.

  “Oh,” she managed before Wil kissed her again, his tongue sliding into her mouth as his hand slid up the inside of her thigh. She cried out in surprise when he cupped her denim-covered mound in his palm. The whole thing still seemed surreal. Was it really happening, or the byproduct of an overactive imagination? No. Not a dream. She’d felt the sting of their fangs too sharply for it to be anything but reality. And what a reality it was.

  “Are you sure this is okay with you?” she asked Royce when Wil broke the kiss. She didn’t need him to hate her after this, not when they’d come this far.

  He ground his rigid cock against her in answer. “What do you think?”

  She had a little trouble in the thinking department, and the more they touched her, the worse it got. “I need to sit back down.”

  Royce chuckled, and it sounded strained. “I think we should lay you down instead.”

  She couldn’t agree more. She didn’t remember exactly how it happened, but someone carried her up the stairs into Royce’s bedroom. And then Wil was over her, his hands working the hem of her shirt out of her waistband and pulling it over her head. Her jeans and underthings quickly followed, landing in a heap on the plush carpet. She sat on the edge of the bed and Wil knelt down in front of her, parting her knees and wedging his body between them. She ran her hands up his chest and down to the front placket of his pants. He was hard, and hot, and strong. Like Royce. She gulped. Could she handle two men at one time? Sure, it sounded great in theory, but she didn’t know if her body could take it without shutting down.

  Wil leaned down and captured one of her nipples in his mouth, his fangs scraping against the sensitive flesh. She moaned, her back arching to bring her closer to him. His hands came up her back and held her against him as his tongue laved and his lips teased. He released one nipple and moved on to the other, his touch as drugging as his kiss had been.

  Royce came up behind her, pulling her down with him on the bed so she faced him instead of Wil. He pulled her leg over his hip and ground his cock against her. She felt how hard he was even through the layers of his pants and boxers. The rough fabric abraded her sensitive sex, brushing her clit in the most enticing way. Her hands flew to his ass and cupped him, squeezing. He really didn’t have any idea how close she was to ripping the things off him.

  And Wil’s clothes, too. He ran his hand up and down her nude back in teasing strokes, only increasing the fire burning inside her. She needed more. This just wasn’t enough. She was just about ready to come out of her skin. She opened her mouth, but all that came out was a strangled moan as Wil kissed his way down her back, he sunk his fangs into the skin of her hip, just above her ass.

  She bucked hard against Royce, who appeased some of her need with delicate strokes of his fingers along her pussy. He slid first one, then two fingers inside her, plunging as deep as he could go. She moaned, a long and low keening sound that turned into a growl of pleasure. Her first orgasm took her by surprise, striking like lightning as Royce skimmed his thumb over her clit. She convulsed hard, her vision fading. As she started to come back down someone rolled her to her back and pushed her legs apart. A soft, wet and warm touch feathered over her pussy—a tongue. She snapped her gaze up. Wil’s tongue. Oh God. There was something illicit yet exciting about Royce watching another man pleasure her.

  Wil moved his tongue in slow strokes and swirls over her pussy, never touching where she really needed him. Her flesh still quivered from the first orgasm, but she needed more. A lot more. And soon. Her body was wound tight, ready to snap. Royce’s hands covered hers, moving them to Wil’s head. She tangled her fingers in Wil’s hair, giving him a little push as she raised her hips, silently telling him what she needed. She felt the bed move as Royce stood up. A few seconds later, she heard the rasp of a zipper, sounding unusually loud to her overwhelmed senses. The bed dipped wh
en he rejoined her, laying his naked body next to her as his mouth covered hers and he kissed her deeply. He cupped her breast in his palm and squeezed, his thumb flicking across her nipple. Her hold on Wil’s hair tightened as she felt the stirrings of another orgasm build in her belly. Royce’s hands were everywhere—or at least that’s what it felt like—as her body exploded yet again in another powerful climax. She went limp on the mattress, her eyes closed and her nerves humming in satisfaction.

  “Merida,” Royce whispered in her ear. “Are you okay?”

  She started to nod, but then shook her head. “Can’t move. Can’t think.”

  She didn’t even protest when he rolled her to her stomach and raised her onto her hands and knees. Her arms threatened to give out and she locked her elbows to keep from falling. “Royce, I can’t. I’m done.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so.” He parted her folds and rubbed the tips of his fingers along her swollen, sated pussy. “Mine,” he growled as he slammed his cock into her.

  She’d thought she couldn’t take any more, but she’d been wrong. Desire heated her blood to a boil as Royce slammed into her, his thrusts harsh and erratic.

  Wil stood next to the bed, watching intently. She realized he’d stripped off his clothes at some point—she’d been too involved in the pleasure of it all to notice when. The man had an incredible body. He was leaner than Royce, and a few inches shorter, with well-defined muscles. A detailed tattoo of a dragon graced the skin of his right hipbone, and another—a snake—wrapped around his upper arm. He had his hand wrapped around his very impressive cock and she whimpered at the sight. “Come here, Wil.”

  “I want to taste,” she told him when he hesitated. He groaned and came back to join them on the bed. Royce’s hands tightened almost imperceptibly on her hips when Wil knelt in front of her.