“Fucking hell,” I growl. “What did you do, Neve?”
“Used my compulsion ability?”
“I’m gonna speak to your father. You’re not allowed to compel anyone inside the compound.”
She rolls her eyes and I realise my anger is dissipating.
I turn my head and see Declan talking to our president by the bar top.
“You want a glass of beer?” Neve asks in a dry voice.
“I want a few moments of solitude if you don’t mind?”
“Solitude with our bar trash as your company?” Neve puts her hands on her hips.
I rise to my feet. “That’s enough.”
Neve shrinks into herself and shoots a scared glance towards Declan. He flops from the bar stool and moves closer to us while Hugh exits the bar.
“I want to see you back home at nine,” Declan says to Neve.
“Yes sir,” she says.
Declan grits his teeth. “You want to keep this job? Then behave.”
Neve nods several times and I see dread creep into her glance. This job is her social life. She loves it and she’s desperate to keep it.
“Good.” Declan bows his head at me, and he walks off.
Zorica will be awake in a few minutes, and she’s gonna be very hungry.
Neve rolls her eyes again and drops onto the sofa with a sigh escaping her mouth. I sit down beside her.
“I want to move out,” she says with her forehead wrinkling. “It’s embarrassing to live with my parents under one roof, you know.”
“You’d better go say your apology to Emily.”
“No fucking way am I going to apologize to a skunk.”
“Mind your tongue, Neve.”
She looks at me, her eyes as red as blood.
I can feel it then—the pull between us is so intense I want to grab her, throw her over my shoulder and take her upstairs. Fuck her like an animal. Fuck her raw for the rest of my life.
The boys don’t react to her presence like me. I asked them. Very discreetly of course. She’s just Declan’s kid to them. They don’t react to Zorica either, but that’s normal. Declan and she are bound and she’s our brother’s treasure we want to protect as we would protect our sister.
This insane thing is only between Neve and me.
“Neve, go to your house.”
“No.”
It feels like the world narrows, encloses us in a hot bubble, and we are somewhere else.
“I said go to your house, Neve.”
“No.” She leans towards me and whispers into my ear, “I’m going to your house.”
“No fucking way.”
She rises to her feet and leaves the bar. I stiffen for a few seconds but then something violent wells up in my chest and yanks me out of my seat. I exit the bar and walk behind the clubhouse and then along the path that crosses the garden. A few fat drops fall off the leaves above my head and splash against my forehead. The path meanders down the hill. The density of the woods surrounds me as the scent of soil steeped with rainwater settles in my nostrils. I breathe in the smell of moss and resins. The round chapel rises in front of me. I walk through the metal gate and enter the graveyard. Hugh is standing by his wife’s grave. He looks over his shoulder as I move closer to him. My wife is buried next to his. Moss covers her grey stone, obscuring the inscription. Hugh has never remarried even though he looks only fifty.
And Colin? Declan’s mother was a hunter, but she decided to go back to the Order. Colin had to twist the bitch’s neck before she had the chance reveal the location of our compound. Declan doesn’t know about it. He thinks his mother was a good woman. She has her stone in the corner of the graveyard. Declan burns a candle for her every year.
My eyes travel to the graves that belong to my parents. They were both hunters. The scumbags killed them when I was eleven. Hugh and Declan’s dad raised me. I lived in the clubhouse until I decided to build my wooden house. That was when I was twenty.
Hugh lays his hand on my shoulder. “Declan may be… will be furious for a while.”
“What?”
“He may break your arm.”
“Why would he want to break my arm?”
“Or even both your arms. He’ll break your jaws for sure.”
“You drunk, Prez?”
He pats my shoulder, grins like I’m funny to him, nods as a good grandpa would, and then walks off.
I stare at my wife’s gravestone as grey clouds layer the sky and threaten to crush me with their stormy brightness. Thick droplets settle on my forehead and trickle down my temple and along the bridge of my nose. A gust of wind causes leaves to rustle above my head. A chill bites my cheek.
A few streaks of light slice the air and illuminate the graveyard. Eerie quietness encloses me for a moment.
“Thank you for your smile, Ruby,” I say. “I loved your warm smile, you know. But Neve…” My voice halts.
Neve has the brightest, the cheekiest smile I’ve ever seen. I love it when that flea smiles for me, talks to me, annoys me.
I love…
No.
No fucking way.
Not my brother’s daughter.
Chapter 9
Neve
So here I am, standing in his kitchen like some fucking pole stuck in the floor. I shouldn’t be here. I don’t know what happened in the bar.
No, I know exactly what happened. This brain fog happened. It feels like my brain switches off each time I see Brad. This dark elemental hunger will replace my rationality and tah dah—I find myself in Brad’s kitchen for example, standing like an idiot. Waiting for what? For Brad to propose to me?
I’m just his club brother’s brat.
I’m the flea he wants to get rid of.
I take a deep breath as my hands collapse.
Brad never locks the front door. Why would he? A high wall secures the compound, shelters it from the glances of the outside world, and there’re only club members, three old ladies and four club whores here. And graves—a lot of graves—Hugh’s wife, Brad’s wife and his parents, Colin’s wife who was also my grandmother, the grandmother I never met, Alastar’s parents.
I pull back and forth, then I decide I definitely shouldn’t be here so I back up. My body rests against a warm massive obstacle. I squeal as I breathe in Brad’s smell.
“Neve,” he says as cold fury creeps into his voice.
His hands clutch at my arms and he turns me round. Our glances meet. I shudder at the rigidness radiating from his eyes. I’ve never ever seen him that pissed off.
Then my brain has this fucking fog again, and nothing matters to me except the hunger I want to satisfy. I hear Brad’s blood pumping in his arteries and the alluring sound of his strong heart. My head drops back. I can’t. I can’t bear it any longer.
“Neve, baby?”
My glance shifts to Brad’s. “It’s driving me mad.” It comes out in a furious growl.
Brad rests his forehead against mine as his breathing accelerates. “I know.” He emits a guttural growl. “I can’t, Neve.” His fingers dig into my arms, causing me pain. “You understand, kid? I can’t. I’m sorry. Go back to your house.”
“You want that bar trash when you can have me?”
Wow. I really am an idiot. I’m begging for his attention like I have no dignity.
Brad takes a sharp breath. “I want… you, but it’s wrong, baby girl, you hear me?” His voice cracks.
My mind whirls as my hands rise and my fingers sink into his hair. I can’t stop myself from touching him. I don’t want to. I feel Brad’s unshaven cheek slide against mine, scratching my skin. I feel his hand go up my back and grip the back of my neck. Heat fills my tummy as my heart hammers in my chest.
He is going to kiss me like they do in the romantic movies. God, how badly I want to feel his lips pressed against mine.
Suddenly, my body hovers towards the table as Brad turns me and bends me over the top. I manage only a sigh as his frame pins me down.
&n
bsp; Brad’s hot breath scented with beer puffs on my ear. “Happy?”
“I—“
“This is what happens when you tease a grown man. You like it?” His hand dives under my skirt as his fingers slip under my panties. He spreads my folds and touches my swollen clit. A jolt of pleasure surges through me and causes me to moan. “You like it?” Brad rasps. His voice is both torment and violent need.
Not what I expected. Much better than I expected. “I like it.”
Brad grazes along my jaw line and kisses my neck. No, he’s devouring, bruising my neck. He pulls the sleeve of my wrapped top down and his hot lips plant even hotter kisses down to my shoulder. His kisses brand me. His teeth scratch my skin.
His finger massages my clit in circles and I melt. I feel his massive erection rub against my ass like he already is inside me.
That’s much more serious than I expected.
That’s what I want.
Brad grasps my waist and tumbles me over. Our lips meet in a hungry kiss and I land on the table with my back pressed against the top. The impact knocks the air out of my lungs. Brad kisses me deeper as his tongue strokes mine. His finger searches for my clit and he massages me harder. I fold my legs and spread them.
I yield myself to him.
Brad
Her body arches against the table, her heels against the edge, and she shudders as she moans her satisfaction into my mouth. Her hazy red eyes seek mine. I see her fangs. I want her fangs. I want all of her.
Her smell is like a gust of sweet intoxication. I’m a mad man.
I pull her to me and straighten. Her thighs wrap around my waist and it feels so good I want it to last forever. Her lips touch my neck and her fangs pierce my skin. My muscles shiver from the jolt of dark pleasure. Her hand slips under my jeans as her little fingers close around my hard cock. I shudder at her touch. She drinks my blood, emitting greedy sounds, giving me dense dark bliss. My balls tighten and a violent orgasm rolls over me. I moan her name, rising towards my liberating high, as she trembles against me, moaning her pleasure.
There’s a thick haze in my head. The sound of our heavy breaths envelops me.
“I have to go,” Neve murmurs.
She wiggles out of my embrace and flops from the table. Her skirt rustles as she smoothes a hand down the fabric.
“Neve, we should talk.”
She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry, Brad. This won’t happen again.”
Fuck. The kid is scared. I just did something horrible to her.
“I’m sorry, Neve.”
“Don’t tell my parents. My dad would be mad at me.”
“I won’t.” Fucking hell. I was supposed to act like an adult here. “Go home, baby girl.”
She nods, corrects her clothes and runs off.
The moment her form disappears from my sight, I feel like somebody has ripped my heart out of my chest.
The kid was scared.
She needs someone her age, not an old man with dark needs.
I want to wreck her and that’s wrong.
She needs poems, butterflies, and fairy tales.
She needs me to be far away from her.
Neve
Brad leaves the compound two hours later. I stare out the window until the fumes from his motorcycle exhaust pipe dissipate.
Heaviness sits on my chest. I can’t breathe. My world turns into a suffocating blur.
When I wake up the next morning I know Brad’s not gonna come back soon. I bury myself under the comforter and cry in my bedroom. I cry for a week, avoiding my family’s glances. I cry because Brad was supposed to tell me he loved me. He said ‘we should talk’. It means that he regretted what we had done together. I’m sure as fuck he just feels guilty.
He said ‘I want you’. Men say such things. Brad wanted me but only for a one-night stand. I’m a pretty little Mora after all. Young human men tell me I’m beautiful. Human men want me for a one-night stand.
Time passes and I cry less and less. But I feel like I’m dead.
Anger poisons me. Despair stabs me.
Brad was supposed to love me. He doesn’t.
He’s a hunter. He fucks, gets drunk and goes kill monsters. I’m at the bottom of his list of needs.
A grey wave of misery floods me.
Nobody loves me.
“I love you, Neve.”
I raise my eyes and see my mom sneak into my bedroom. She perches on my four-poster bed and puts her hand on her pregnant belly.
“Your father loves you too,” she says as she tucks a wisp of hair behind her ear. “Your brother loves you.” There’s a hint of amusement in her voice, but her eyes radiate concern.
“I didn’t—“
“I sometimes hear your thoughts when you’re very upset. Why are you upset, sweetie?”
“I don’t want to talk, Mom.”
“Alright. No talking. Let’s go for a walk then.”
I sniffle, grabbing my tissue. “Okay. Let’s go. A walk will do me good.” I wipe the tears away from my face, slip into my hoody and put my ankle boots on. The long flowery skirt I have on wraps around my legs as I move closer to the tall mirror that leans against the stone wall. “I look like I’m allergic or something.”
“You look good.” My mom holds my hand in hers. We’re standing in front of the mirror for a moment while I’m breathing in the strength radiating from her. “Let’s go,” she says, her voice coated with love.
We exit my bedroom and Dad passes us in the dark corridor. He stops and turns to us.
My mom shakes her head, giving him a silent sign to keep quiet. “We need a walk.”
Dad raises his hands in a warding gesture. “Didn’t say anything.”
Warmth washes over my heart. They don’t need to talk. They’ll just glance at each other and everything is clear between them.
My dad is sometimes a hard case, but given the fact that my mom sleeps a lot in life and raising my brother and me has been mainly his job, I can understand his attitude. When he does club business, Colin or Hugh or Brad look after us. Looked after us. I’m an adult. Ross will be an adult soon. We don’t need nannies anymore, but I must admit it was funny sometimes—long trips into the woods, camping, fishing. Jokes. Laughter. Scary stories.
Mom drags me out of the house. We move along the path that meanders among perfectly trimmed bushes and flower urns and then we carry on along the narrow asphalt road that leads us into the woods.
We go through the metal gate guarded by Alastar. His words ‘be careful’ follow us as we immerse ourselves into the green humid darkness scented with resins.
A jolt of eerie energy surges through me, touching my soul.
I feel like I need to run. Like I need to be free. Like something is calling out to me.
My mom stops. “What is it, Neve?”
“I don’t know. I need to be somewhere else.” Our glances meet and I see concern in hers. “Something’s calling out to me and I need to answer that call.” Our hands lace together. “I want… need to go answer that call.” I kiss her on the cheek. “Alone, Mom.”
“Be careful.” Her eyes fill up with tears, but she doesn’t intend to stop me.
She always understands the Mora inside of me.
“I will,” I say, “don’t worry.”
“Go,” she rasps.
So I go. A primal invisible force guides me as I dance, jump over the fallen trees obstructing my way and meander among bushes.
I feel so good. I feel like I’m a pure Mora.
A sense of liberty fills me.
Then a delicate mist of pure darkness creeps into me, but I’m so excited, so curious that I start singing an old Bulgarian song my mom taught me.
Chapter 10
Zorica
I walk into the house and go to the kitchen. Declan is cooking a meal for Ross and for himself.
He flashes me his signature naughty grin as he covers the pan with the lid and moves closer to me. His arm crosses
over my back as his lips brush against my forehead.
“Are you hungry?” he asks.
I’m seven months pregnant. I’m not very hungry. The higher the pregnancy is, the less blood I need. It was different with Neve. I was hungry all the time and stayed close to four deer. They were so patient and caring even though I was so greedy for their blood. I guess, my daughter is very unique.
But, I’m carrying a boy now, a hunter.
“Later,” I say.
Declan’s eyes burn with lust as he nods. “Neve okay?”
“I don’t know yet. She needs to be on her own for a while and we’ll see.”
“She needs the fuck what?” His jaw muscles twitch and tense as his eyes fill with fury.
He sometimes struggles to understand what being a Mora means. The hunters have a very strong sense of family and the men rule in the compound. They expect the women to obey them and never to ask questions.
“She’s been called,” I say.
“Zorica, what did you do?” He grips my arm.
“She needs to be in the woods for a moment, that’s all.”
His face turns into a cold mask. “Bullshit. She’s not safe in the woods. I’m gonna bring her back and you… you…”
“Declan, please. You’re sometimes so—“
“How many times do I have to repeat myself, Zorica? You both have to be inside the compound all the time.”
I free my arm from his grip and walk out of the kitchen. Everything must always be his way. Or Hugh’s. Or Colin’s. I know we’re at war. I know it’s dangerous in the outer world. I also know that my daughter is one of her kind.
I know she’s safe for now.
I enter our bedroom and sit down on the bed. My eyes sweep over the wood beamed ceiling and arched windows with stained glass as I try to steady my ardent breath. The sound of heavy footsteps diverts my attention and I see Declan walk in. He kneels down in front of me as his boots scrape the floor, and he strokes my outer thighs with his enormous hands.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“I know it’s sometimes difficult for you to understand who we are. Who Neve is.”
“I thought Neve would be like me. Or like Ross. And she’s just…”
“She’s not like us, Declan. Not like you. Not even like me.”
Zorica and Declan: Restless Spades MC (A Bad Boy Paranormal Vampire Romance) Page 9