“That was sneaky,” she stated when he pulled away.
“Yeah, I know,” he replied, grinning wickedly. “A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.”
Jolie went to comment, but was cut off by their other mate.
“If you two are done making out, the chaperone here would like to point out that we have far bigger problems,” said Jacques. “We’ve been tasked with finding the hunters before they find any more of us.”
“Chill, Dad. I’ll focus on the problem and not the babe,” Flynn teased. Then he got serious. “How hard is it going to be?”
Jolie laughed. “Not very. Are either of you surprised that Montclair is the family name of hunters, and a man by that name wandered up to us on the street?”
Their human wasn’t as amused. “I find it ironic that he found us and didn’t even have the common sense to know what we are,” commented Flynn. “You’d think as a hunter, or from a long line of them, that he’d have a damn clue. Even I know how to spot one.”
They both looked at him as he spoke.
“Is that so?” Jacques asked.
“It’s the eyes. Neither of your colors are found in normal eyes. Look at Master Viktor. His were so aqua, that it put some oceans to shame. Then there was that near gray color of that one guardian. Trust me. It’s how I pick us out of a crowd.”
Leave it to a cop to figure it out.
It was apparent that he was unaware that he had classified himself the undead instead of human.
It spoke volumes.
And all of it was true. Flynn’s ice blue eyes were becoming more and more vibrant each day.
“So, what are we thinking?” Flynn asked.
“I don’t believe in coincidences, mon amour, and with the name Montclair, I don’t think we can be too careful,” Jacques admitted. “His partner had none of those surnames. Do you think he’s involved?”
“We’ll have to find out,” supplied Flynn, starting the Mercedes.
“We need to be cautious going forward.” Jacques’s eyes flickered over to Flynn’s, and they shared a silent message.
“For now, I suggest that we keep what we know to ourselves,” said Jacques.
“Agreed,” he replied. “We can eliminate the other bloodlines for now. I think we have our suspect.”
Jolie was hesitant. “If the societies get an inkling that we’re holding back…” She let it hang in the air of the Mercedes.
Brogan shifted the car into gear, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror. “I don’t trust anyone’s ability but ours, and honestly, the less they know, the safer we’ll be. We have the Chloe situation to worry about too.”
They almost forgot.
“Yes, we do. You better get us home, Flynn. I think we’ve been away long enough.”
“I’m beginning to believe that coming to Paris was a bad idea,” stated Flynn.
Jolie thought back to the last couple of evenings’ events. First, there was her nightmare about her enslavement to Goethe, and then there was the little girl standing behind the detectives while they were shopping. Add to that the visit by the same little messenger behind Belladonna and Morden, and it didn't sit well.
How did they all fit together?
Did they at all, or was all of this nothing more than coincidence?
What exactly was Death trying to tell her?
Shit!
That was a lot of unanswered questions.
Frankly, that just pissed her off.
CHAPTER Six
Monday Early Morning
Once home, they all became aware of the eerie silence that had ascended over their rented home. Something was definitely wrong. There wasn’t a soul to be found, and that was incredibly odd. Where was everyone?
It was still hours until dawn, and the lesser vampyres should still be stirring--not to mention their human donors as well. It made Jolie uneasy, and it was obvious that Flynn and Jacques also were thinking the same thing.
“Where are they?”
“No idea,” whispered Brogan, pulling his gun as he headed toward the stairs. He scanned their surroundings as he crept upstairs. When he sensed the first pair of vampyres, he whispered over his shoulder, “Clariel and Trina are together in their room.”
Jolie picked up their energy. “Yes, but where is Mathew, Mina, and Chloe?”
Jacques didn't like this. Something felt off.
Together, they began moving toward Chloe’s room, and once outside, they stopped short of it to scan the room. Everyone else was situated in there, all close to the bed. Opening the door, it was only Mathew’s eyes that lifted to meet hers. He didn’t smile or move, but sat completely motionless as if protecting the two women lying behind him.
When recognition dawned, his entire demeanor changed. His fangs retracted and his face softened. Slowly, he unfolded from his position on the floor at the foot of the bed to glide toward his mistress.
“Mathew, what’s going on?”
He moved past her as he headed toward the hall. They needed to talk.
“Mistress, welcome home.” He bowed his head reverently. “Shortly after you left for council, Chloe began going crazy and crying. We couldn’t get her to tell us why, so we went to our rooms and remained there for safety. Clariel and Trina can protect themselves, and I knew I could keep the donors safe.”
This wasn’t the first time that Chloe had reacted that way, and Jolie was glad that their vampyre charge was able to handle the situation.
“Thank you, Mathew, for watching over her,” she said, kissing his cheek. “I’ll explain everything to you, Clariel, and Trina tomorrow. We’ve had a difficult evening and need to rest.”
“If you wish, Mistress, I’ll watch over her until dawn.”
That made their lives so much easier. “We can’t tell you how much we’d appreciate that, Mathew.” She sighed before giving him a hug. “Chloe is very important to me, much like the rest of you.”
Mathew nodded, his face flushing pink with heat. He could feel both men watching him, and it was best if he moved as far from the mistress as possible. At the bottom of Chloe’s bed, he took up his sentry post for guard duty.
Jolie waited for him to settle himself before closing the door.
“I’m worried about Chloe,” she said, as they returned to their quarters. “Maybe we should send her home to Balzac and the others. At least there, she’ll be safe.”
“I don’t know if I agree, mon amour. It seems everything that is happening is connected. We may need her to remain here.” Jacques hated being the bearer of bad news, but it appeared that they were all trapped in Paris.
“Unfortunately, you’re probably right. We should get some rest.” Jolie glanced over at their human mate. While she and Jacques weren’t tired, Flynn looked like he was wearing down.
“I’m good with that,” the detective stated.
Once near the bed, Flynn flopped down, way too tired to even remove his holsters. Jacques took a seat in his reading chair to mull over their situation.
Jolie noticed that he looked a little pale. “Jacques, let me feed you. I think you lost a little too much blood from that knife,” she admitted, pausing at the bed.
“Yeah, he’s looking even more pasty than normal,” Flynn teased.
“You’re funny, Detective,” he replied.
Jolie focused on their human. “Flynn, can you please help me out of these boots? They’re like a straitjacket and about as comfortable.”
“Sure thing, baby.”
Standing in front of him, Jolie enjoyed the way his fingers unlaced the blood red ribbon from the boots, so she could be set free. His hands on her body were always a welcome thing, even if it was something as simple as undressing.
From his knees, Flynn had a really great view. It was hard not to get distracted. “Yeah, but they look so much better on you than a straitjacket would,” Flynn admitted.
When he was done, he offered her his hand. Jolie accepted as she stepped out of the confining leather. A s
igh broke from her lips as she could finally stand on solid ground.
Not one to miss any lip lock opportunity, Flynn took the opportunity to steal a kiss.
“Mmmmm. Behave, Flynn. I have to feed Jacques,” she murmured, pushing him onto the bed.
Her laughter caressed his body.
“I was just stealing my payment for having to play lady in waiting,” he teased, before closing his eyes in exhaustion.
Jolie went to Jacques’s lap, offering him her bare shoulder. As he began licking across her collarbone to find her pulse, Jolie shivered. When he found his sweet spot, sinking his teeth into her body, Jolie didn't even flinch. Instead, she relaxed into the feeding. Before long, she realized that she was drifting in the sensation.
Then, they heard it.
A deep, masculine growl came from across the room, pulling her and Jacques back to reality.
Their human was in distress, only no one was near him.
“Flynn?” Jolie called, trying to get his attention.
“God! I can smell the blood from here,” he muttered, as he rolled to his side in pain. If he didn't focus on something else, who knew what was going to happen.
All Flynn could picture was Jolie and her fresh, warm, pulsing blood. He closed his eyes and started counting backwards from one hundred. Hopefully, he’d be in control of the predator trying to break free. If not, he was sure someone would get hurt.
Jacques sensed his mate’s suffering and took one for the team. Pulling his mouth from Jolie’s shoulder, he pushed her from his lap. “He needs you,” he whispered, knowing that the blood lust was tearing their human apart.
Jolie loved how understanding her mate was. After all, they’d done this to Flynn. Because of them, he’d never be fully human again.
A part of her dreaded giving him more blood, but it was too late to worry. With each feeding, Flynn was losing more and more of his humanity. Already, their latest dose of blood had given him more vampyre characteristics, and he was still struggling to adjust.
“Oh God,” he moaned, curling further into the fetal position as his skin actually rippled from the agony.
Jolie knew there was no choice. Flynn’s need for blood was increasing, and they both suspected it was due to them sharing it during sex. It wasn’t uncommon for the undead to swap blood with a mate. For them, sex and blood seemed to be the magical elixir that dragged him from humanity and further into their existence. While Flynn wasn’t a vampyre, he continually had the urges that their kind were forced to experience--almost daily.
Jolie slowly walked toward the bed and reached for him. Before she touched him, he growled.
“You can’t touch me yet, Jolie… I’m trying to fight it. I don’t want to hurt you,” he hissed, sliding across the silk bedding to get as far from her as possible. Flynn didn't trust himself near her.
Not when he was drowning in this mire of lust and hunger.
Jolie stopped moving to watch him try to escape.
“Shit!” he muttered, as his fangs exploded into his mouth at the scent of her so close to him. Obviously, counting wasn’t going to work.
Flynn was losing this battle, and fast.
Jolie knew the only way to help him was to follow her mate across their bed. As she approached, he tensed.
“Baby, get away from me!”
Instead, she wrapped her body around him from behind. It was disturbing to feel him shake so violently against her. In fact, his flesh was rippling as if something was just below the surface, begging to be free.
“Flynn, my love, it’s okay. I’m here. It’s going to be fine. You’ll feel so much better once I feed you.” Jolie rolled him into her. Without any hesitation, she pulled him into her arms before brushing the damp hair from his face. “I can feed you both tonight, since I fed from the guardians.”
Jacques joined them on the bed, gently placing his hand on his mate’s arm in solidarity. When he first found his own lust for blood, he remembered the discomfort.
It was brutal.
With time, the pain and intensity lessened, and it would for Flynn, too, if he stopped fighting the need. That was the big secret. When you were hungry, you had to give in. As the undead, you couldn’t play hero.
Brogan couldn’t open his eyes. “It’s so damn painful.”
“Don’t fight it. Just go with it. Let your body and this lust lead you, my love,” she whispered. With a gentle kiss to his perspiration beaded brow, Jolie continued reassuring him, “I’ll take care of your needs. When you crave blood, all you have to do is come to me.”
He shook.
Jolie knew it was time. Releasing him, she moved to sit in the center of their massive bed with her arms open for him.
At that moment, he wished he could move as gracefully across the silk covered bed, but all he wanted was to rush and take. Breathing deep, he toed off his low boots and crossed to her. In that moment, Flynn looked every ounce the predator that Jacques and Jolie themselves were.
It stole her breath.
Gone were his icy blue eyes, and in their place ones that were unique to him. While theirs would bleed black, Flynn’s had gone a deep midnight blue. As his fangs peeked from beneath his lips, Jolie could almost feel them buried in her flesh.
They called to her.
“I need you,” he said in a hoarse whisper. Even he could hear how far gone he was. More control began fraying around the edges. When he reached Jolie, Flynn was suddenly afraid to touch her, fearing that he would harm the woman he loved. The fear must have shown on his face.
“Mon ami, I’m here. I won’t let you hurt her,” admitted Jacques. As if to reassure his friend and mate, he crossed to sit behind Jolie. When she was cradled against him, they had their safety net for the human.
He felt a wave of calm, and there was no doubt who it was from. Jacques was working his mojo.
Flynn paused in front of Jolie, picking up her hand as he began worrying her ring. “I don’t know why I can’t control it, but every once in a while, I just have to just taste you.”
“I understand, Flynn,” she whispered, getting excited. This wasn’t exactly a bad situation for her. There was one man pressed to her back, and a very hungry, sexy one staring at her like she was his next snack.
Her heart fluttered.
“I’ll always feed when you need blood. You’re my mate, and this is part of who we are.” Jolie watched him playing with her ring. It was hard not to notice that it was a very Jacques-esque thing. Lines were definitely blurring in their threesome.
“We have you, Flynn,” added Jacques reassuringly. “Trust us, mon ami. We won’t let you do anything to harm yourself or us.”
He couldn’t wait any longer.
If Flynn didn't taste her, he was going to die inside. Moving closer, he took the opportunity to begin his journey at her wrist. Concentrating on that one point, Flynn made sure to swirl his tongue over her pulse. When she shook, he knew he was offering her as much pleasure as he could. While he needed to feed, he wanted the woman he loved to know the truth.
She was more than food.
Jolie was his heart.
Onward he continued, finding his way to her collarbone. Once there, Flynn couldn’t help but lick a trail across it to the crook of her neck. He could feel the thudding of her pulse, and it sang the siren’s song to him, luring him into its tempestuous depths.
Jolie ran her hands up his arms, willing him to take what he wanted. There was nothing more erotic than one of her mates driving her wild with need.
Flynn loved the way she tasted. The spicy scent of her blood called to him, but there was so much more. There was that slight lingering kiss of her perfume. It was rich and very French. Flynn wanted to smell nothing else but this woman for the rest of his eternity. He wondered if it was normal.
Jacques was is his mind, offering him control. ‘It’s very normal when you’ve found your true mate,’ he reassured.
Flynn was glad. Not only was he one of them, but he was claimed a
nd no longer alone in life.
Jolie moaned as his mouth left a path of heat across her chilly skin. The sound of her voice crackled around them, shooting little licks of electricity through all three of them.
He was beyond euphoric, and he’d yet to bite her. Flynn couldn’t wait until that one moment when he tasted the love of his life. The predator was very close to the surface, begging to be set free. He could feel it. As she squirmed beneath his mouth, it only drove him wilder.
Then, he heard it. This time, it wasn’t Jacques. There was a faint whisper in his mind, progressively getting louder.
Take.
Take.
Take.
He had no choice but to listen. Pulling Jolie to her knees, her quick gasp turned him on even more. Now, they were in the center of the bed, their bodies pressed together.
“I need you both,” he admitted.
It was all it took.
The bed shifted again as Jacques took his position behind Jolie. She was trapped between the two men until this little adventure was done. As soon as he came in contact, there was a collective hiss as their three auras overlapped, causing energy to glide across their flesh.
“Mmmmm,” Jolie murmured, as Jacques and Flynn both touched her at the same time. The zipper on the back of her leather dress began its slide downward to set her free. This was going to be more than a feeding.
Jolie could feel the lust pounding around her in some primitive tribal beat. Both men were beyond merely drinking from her, and instead, they were in the mood to mate.
It felt like forever since they had touched her. “Please,” she murmured, giving them permission to do whatever they wanted. Jolie needed them in the worst way. She wanted her two dangerous angels to make love to her.
“Forgive me, Jolie,” whispered Jacques in her ear, “but suddenly, I’m desperate to see you in the lacy concoction you have under this dress.”
“I have to see it again too,” Flynn added, nipping her neck with his fangs.
Jolie couldn’t think. When one man touched her, she was distracted. When both were working their magic, she was lost.
Dangerous Misery (The Harcourte Vampyre Society Book 3) Page 11