Alpha Guardians Series - The Complete Collection: 650+ Pages Of Sizzling, Fast-Paced Bear and Dragon Shifter Romance

by Vivian Wood

  The altar was a simple, smooth piece of stone about five feet long and three feet wide, raised a foot off the ground. All around it were candles, statuettes of minor saints, beads and coins and small bottles of liquor, a hundred tiny tokens to feed the spirits. Adorning the wall were a number of photos, sketches, and paintings of various Malveaux ancestors, arranged according to the power and prestige they’d attained in their human lives.

  All of this was as it should be; the difference tonight was that a homely blonde girl lay stretched out on the altar, looking at him through glassy eyes. Though her hair and thin white ceremonial shroud were neat and clean, the red puffiness around her eyes and the dark bruises on her knuckles and inner arms proclaimed her a junkie, some lost teenage girl.

  A vessel. This was no friendly visit from one of his bygone relatives, then.

  Her mouth opened, and an unnaturally deep voice slid from her mouth, the creature possessing her working her like a clumsy puppet.

  “Bring me forth,” the voice commanded.

  The girl clutched a silver dagger, turning it in her hands and thrusting the handle at Pere Mal. When Pere Mal hesitated, the creature within released a spine-chilling growl.

  “Yes, yes,” Pere Mal said.

  Accepting the dagger, he closed his eyes and mumbled a long incantation, the words all too familiar by now. They were heavy on his tongue, as if he’d been drinking arsenic; the darkness of the magic numbed his lips. As he spoke the final word, he thrust the dagger downward, not caring where it landed except to sink it into the girl’s waiting flesh.

  The dagger shook in his fingers as he waited. It was distasteful, this summoning of a spirit into the human realm, but necessary. His Master was a Loa of great power, and far be it for Pere Mal to disobey a direct command from him. It would be a death wish, certainement.

  The air in the room chilled, and Pere Mal forced himself to open his eyes. The girl was standing up now, but her shape began to blur. It was as if her skeleton was moving around inside her skin, stretching and changing it bit by bit, a new creature settling in. Her skin grew darker by degrees until it was dark as coal, and her gender shifted. The resulting creature was a stunning, dark-skinned man who stood half a head over Pere Mal’s six feet. He was sleekly muscular, reminding Pere Mal of nothing so much as a jaguar on the hunt. The whites of his eyes glowed bright, the irises gleamed like polished midnight.

  “Papa Aguiel,” Pere Mal said, bowing low. “It is an honor.”

  “Ahhh,” the spirit said, his breath coming out in an icy puff. The air froze all around his lips, tiny snowflakes forming and falling to the ground. “It has been too long, Dominic.”

  The man’s deep Haitian accent mixed with modern English sounded wrong.

  “Master,” Pere Mal said, keeping his eyes on the man’s chest. He couldn’t bear to make eye contact with the Loa.

  “This skin is much too tight,” Papa Aguiel noted. “I must find a larger body for sacrifice next time, is that not so?”

  Pere Mal inclined his head. Sometimes the spirit’s odd manner of speaking could make for confusion; unless the Loa asked him a direct question, it was better to remain silent.

  “It is hard to find good virgins these days, I have heard.” Papa Aguiel looked around the room, making Pere Mal wonder just what the spirit could see. The vessel only granted him a temporary presence on this plane, and Pere Mal got the idea that the Loa did not experience things as a human would.

  “We do our best,” Pere Mal said, choosing his words carefully.

  Papa Aguiel gave a low chuckle, spreading gooseflesh across Pere Mal’s entire body. Amusement was frightening, in this context.

  “To business, little man.” The Loa’s dark, sightless eyes roamed as he spoke. “There have been many changes in the spirit realm. The balance of power is shifting, and it is not in our favor. I believe there will be a coup of sorts in the coming days.”

  Pere Mal’s brow creased.

  “That is not good news,” he said.

  Papa Aguiel snorted, seeming annoyed.

  “I did not come here for your lip service, little man. Have you found the man I’ve asked for?”

  Pere Mal’s heart stuttered. He’d hoped for more time… Head bowed, he delivered the news.

  “He has proved impossible to detain.”

  Pere Mal barely saw the flash of movement as the Loa’s hand whipped out, hitting Pere Mal’s chest and sinking into his flesh. Mouth gaping like a fish, Pere Mal could only stare at Papa Aguiel’s bulging, blind eyes as the Loa wrapped icy fingers around Pere Mal’s heart and squeezed.

  Pere Mal was unable to move, breathe, think. Papa Aguiel seemed not to care, more interested in driving home the importance of his assignment.

  “I recruited you when you were nothing, little man. You were scrounging for crumbs, barely had enough magic to keep yourself alive. I brought you to power in Nouvelle-Orleans. I gave you access. Secrets, power from the other side. I did all of this for one reason, and one reason alone: you are to bring me into the mortal realm, permanently. This was our agreement, little man.”

  The Loa paused, watching Pere Mal’s face for a moment before continuing.

  “In order to come to this side, I need a very special vessel. I have explained this to you at length. There is one vessel, and one chance at bringing me forth. In order to attain this vessel, I need the man. Kieran, the Gray Faerie, is the only one who can give me what I need. If I miss this chance to rise, the coup in the spirit realm could set me back as much as a thousand years. I haven’t worked this long, this hard for you to foul up all my plans, n’est-ce pas?”

  Pere Mal couldn’t respond in any meaningful way. Disgusted, Papa Aguiel released him and pushed him back. Pere Mal gasped and clutched his chest, agonizing pain filling every fiber of his being for a long moment.

  “That’s only the beginning of what you will feel if you fail me, little man. My last act of power will be to bring you into the spirit realm, under my control. I will hurt you endlessly. I will hurt every spirit in your family line. I will kill every living descendant and erase your family lineage from history, do you understand?”

  Pere Mal huffed an affirmation, trembling.

  “This is your last chance, Dominic. Get the man, lure the vessel out of hiding. As I have asked time and again. Otherwise, having my hand wrapped around your heart will seem a pleasant memory.”

  “Yes, master,” Pere Mal managed, blinking away the sweat dripping from his brow into his eyes.

  “Do not disappoint me, little man.”

  With that pronouncement, Papa Aguiel reached up and ripped the flesh from the vessel’s bones, shredding it until a thin wisp of smoke wafted free, dissipating in the air. The broken and bloodied body slumped to the ground, lifeless, sluggishly shifting back to its original pale skin and blonde hair. Blood pattered on the floor, the warmth of it spreading to touch Pere Mal’s bare toes, making him gag.

  Spinning and sprinting to the small en suite bathroom, Pere Mal knelt before the toilet and vomited until he was completely empty inside. After he was done, he rose and rinsed out his mouth. Then he returned to his bedroom and dressed in his usual dark suit, using his cell phone to summon all of his top men.

  By the time he’d composed himself and gone downstairs, ten dark-suited men awaited him with curious expressions. He addressed the room, keeping his expectations simple and clear:

  “Go to the Gray Market. Overturn every stone, interrogate every person, twist every arm in sight. Bring me Kieran the Gray by the next moon, are you are all dead men.”

  Silence for a moment. Then, “yes, sir” from each man. They all turned and filed out of the house. Pere Mal went to the kitchen and made himself a cup of licorice root tea, trying to ignore the tremor of his hands as he held the cup and saucer.

  Staring out the window into his backyard, he sipped the tea and watched the full moon.

  He would not fail.

  8

  Chapter Eight

>   “So this is what a Fae brothel looks like,” Alice said, cocking her head.

  They’d just stepped into one of the most decadently decorated rooms Alice had ever seen, all red damask curtains and shining dark wood and bits of gold glinting here and there. There were subtle electric lights, to be sure, but most of the room was lit by shining candelabras. With sumptuous carpet underfoot and two butlers checking coats and membership cards at the door, it was all a bit overdone. And that was coming from Alice, who’d lived through the gilded hedonism of ancient Rome, for chrissake.

  “Thank you for patronage,” one of the butlers murmured, handing back the silver metal membership card that Echo had produced to gain their entry. Rhys took Echo’s arm and steered her onward, and Alice smiled when Aeric did the same to her. Asher and Gabriel were right on their heels, Cassie and Kira having stayed at the Manor.

  The Guardians were all dressed to impress, tuxes and cocktail dresses. Aeric was entirely out of sorts in his Armani tuxedo, and kept tugging at his bow tie. Still, it looked absolutely amazing on him. He was like James Bond at his most brutal, and Alice frankly couldn’t wait for the evening to be over so she could strip the tux off him piece by piece.

  He arched a brow, catching her ogling him. She smirked and shrugged; he’d been scoping out her tight black lace minidress all night, and checking out her ass in her towering red spike heels. Fair was fair, after all.

  “This way, please.” A gorgeous, petite Asian woman in a skin-tight silver beaded dress materialized from seemingly nowhere, giving them a polite smile and explaining the house rules as she ushered them through the foyer. “Madam White has a few rules that must be observed. No fighting, no taking what does not belong to you, and no disrespecting the employees. This is a house of pleasure, and a place of business. I trust this will not be an issue.”

  Her tight smile said that she didn’t trust them an inch, and Alice nearly laughed. They reached a pair of shining gold double doors etched with inscrutable magical spells, no doubt warded ten ways to Sunday.

  “Entre,” the hostess said.

  She pulled one of the doors open and stepped back to allow them entrance. Alice repressed a giggle when she saw the inside; the place was a scene straight out of a lavish Victorian opium den. Men and women reclined on soft velvet cushions, sipped drinks at a gleaming brass bar, and a couple of pretty redheaded twins slow danced with each other to soft jazz being played on a grand piano.

  There was a nearly nude contortionist performing in one corner, slowly raising her leg way up above her head and falling back to do the splits in the air, moving in slow motion. Several dark-suited men sat around her in a circle of leather armchairs, watching her every moment with intense interest.

  The one thing that was completely out of place was a slick flat-screen TV at one end of the bar. A football game was on, and Alice recognized the black and gold fleur de lis that represented the New Orleans Saints football team. A good sign, if Ciprian’s information about Kieran Kellan was any good.

  Alice felt the curious gaze of the patrons for a few moments, but there was no disturbance in the entertainment.

  “Will you be seeking companionship tonight?” their hostess asked Rhys, who scowled at her.

  “Nae,” he said. “We’re here for a drink, nothing more.”

  “As you wish.”

  She walked them to the bar, indicating a long swath of unoccupied seats. As soon as they were seated she walked around the bar, gesturing to someone who stood out of sight behind a glinting silver-beaded curtain.

  Alice accepted a glass of water from the hostess and leaned over to Aeric.

  “Can you read auras?” she whispered.

  “Only a little,” he admitted. “Why, are you getting something?”

  “Whoever is behind that curtain is very, very powerful,” she said, inclining her head toward the back of the room. “If I had to guess, I think that’s our guy. Or someone who knows where he is, at least.”

  The mystery man took that as some kind of cue, stepping out behind the bar. Kieran was unmistakable, his silver-blond hair, green eyes, and ferocious swagger even more shocking in person than in the photos Alice had seen. Alice and Echo made eye contact, both pulling a funny face; Kieran was far, far too good looking.

  Aeric’s fingers landed on her thigh, making her jump.

  “Sorry,” Alice said. “He’s— I don’t… it’s confusing!”

  “It’s Fae magic,” Gabriel intoned. “They use glamour to draw people in, get their way. Most of them can’t help it, but our man here seems to have the volume turned all the way up. No doubt he’s got all the ladies here ensorcelled, too attracted and tongue tied to tell anyone a word about him.”

  “Not the worst plan,” Asher said, ever practical.

  “Well… now what?” Echo asked. “Do we just—”

  Rhys cut her off.

  “Oi!” Rhys called to Kieran. “A word?”

  Kieran turned that unnerving emerald gaze on them all, considering them for a moment, then strode over. Even his walk was cocky and overly masculine, it was ridiculous.

  “Need a drink, then?” he asked, his Irish brogue light and lyrical.

  “A pint, all around,” Rhys said, eyeing the man up and down.

  “Right you are,” Kieran said, moving to a gilded beer tap and pouring glass after glass of amber liquid. “This is Fae mead, so take it light, yeah? It’ll catch you unawares.”

  “You’re a hard man to find,” Rhys said after taking his first sip and returning the pint glass to the bar.

  Kieran paused in his work pouring the third pint, then turned with a curious look.

  “I’m no one,” Kieran said. “Just a bartender, my friend.”

  “I don’t think so,” Gabriel chipped in. “You’re—”

  “Ah ah ah,” Kieran said, forcefully placing a pint glass in front of Gabriel. “No need for all that. Names hold a lot of power around here, if you get my drift.

  The way he looked around the room, calm yet suspicious, made Alice think that there might be spells floating around that were activated by the phrase Kieran the Gray.

  “I understand,” Gabriel said.

  Kieran shook his head, turning and pouring the rest of the drinks in silence.

  “Anything else?” he said, picking up a bar towel and laying it over the top of his shoulder. His mimicry of a bartender was truly perfect.

  “Yeah. How about the name Pere Mal?” Asher asked, cutting right to the chase. “I’m thinking you’re not any more interested in getting caught up by him than we are. We could help each other out.”

  “An’ who are you, all this little group?” Kieran asked, swirling a fingertip.

  “Alpha Guardians.”

  “Ahhhhh the city’s protectorate.” He smirked. “I see. Well, I’m afraid I’m not interested in being protected. I do just fine here, as you can see. Better if you lot would clear off, stop drawing attention, eh?”

  “If you fall to Pere Mal, we are going to have bigger problems than trying to protect the city,” Rhys cut in, but a scuffle in the corner of the room drew everyone’s attention.

  The gold double doors swung open, both butlers shuffling in with their hands in the air. Behind them, two dozen dark-suited goons poured into the room.

  “Speak of the devil, and he shall appear,” Kieran quipped. “See what you’ve brought, then?”

  “Get behind the bar,” Aeric said, grabbing Alice and Echo and giving them each a push.

  The Guardians squared off with the attackers, but they were quickly overwhelmed. A couple of bystanders tried to break up the invasion, but one of Pere Mal’s guys pulled a gun and shot a patron point-blank to the chest. The guests slunk back to the walls, trying to escape, and the Guardians were the only thing between Kieran and certain capture.

  Kieran surprised Alice by pushing past her and Echo, wholeheartedly launching himself into fight mode. The Faerie was huge, a couple inches bigger even than her own mate, and he swung w
ith gusto. More bad guys in suits came in, prolonging the fight, pushing Kieran and the Guardians back and back until they were almost trapped against the bar.

  Then Gabriel threw some kind of blinding blue spell that dropped half the bad guys, Kieran followed it with a crackling spell that flashed bright gold. The tide turned, and soon the floor was covered with dead and unconscious henchmen.

  Aeric rolled his neck, flashing Alice a cocky smile. Kieran wiped his brow and grinned.

  “Do love a good scrap on game day,” he said. “Particularly if our boys aren’t winning.”

  “Will you come with us, then? Watch the damned football game in safety,” Rhys growled at the Faerie.

  “Oh, if only it were so simple. Best if you all clear off. There’ll be more, presently.”

  “What others?” Aeric demanded to know.

  “Seems as if Kieran’s been fucking around, showing his face somewhere it oughtn’t be,” he said with a dramatic eye roll. “There will be others.”

  “Wait… aren’t you Kieran?” Alice asked, confused.

  The man shot her a wink.

  “Bloody well not,” he said.

  And then, in an unforgettable moment of total unreality, a perfect double of the man strolled into the room, looking around at the floor with a frown.

  “Pere Mal’s been here, then?” the second Kieran said.

  “Where you been, brother?” the first asked.

  “Brother?” Echo sputtered, her eyes wide. “Lord alive, there are two of you?”

  Both men turned to her with the same wide, hair-raising grin.

  “Aye,” they said at once.

  “Enough of this,” Gabriel growled. He raised a gun and shot them both, drawing a shriek from Alice. Both men dropped like stones where they stood, their expressions going from mutinous to slack in the space of a moment.

  “What the hell,” Alice and Echo both yelled.

  “It’s just a tranquilizer,” Gabriel said. “Just for the purposes of transport. We can’t have these idiots running around and getting caught. It’s a precaution.”