Blood Oath: What Rough Beast

by Kari Gregg

  “It hurts you. I can’t stand that I hurt you. Let me…” She brought his mouth to her neck.

  “You are my beating heart.”

  Kate sucked in her breath as his teeth penetrated, feeling the powerful punch of pleasure in the pit of her stomach. “As you are mine,” she whispered into his hair.

  “Oh, look. She’s falling in love. How wonderful,” Isabel said, peering around Aidan’s bulk only to shoot a glare up at him. “And you wanted me to stay home.”

  “You’re being sentimental and foolish.” Aidan pulled Isabel into the shelter of his body. “They’re mated. Of course, she loves him.”

  “No.” Peter’s gaze studied Kate and Garrick sipping from her. “But she’s starting to.”

  Isabel sighed. “Isn’t it romantic?”

  Aidan’s eyes narrowed. “Garrick! You’ve had weeks to love her and centuries to love her still. Get over here. We’ve a war to run.”

  Chuckling, Garrick kissed her throat. “The prince bellows, love.” He rose, lifting her to stand beside him.

  Fear and uncertainty curled in her stomach, and she reached for him, burying her nose in the crook of his arm. “Don’t leave.”

  He frowned. “With so many others close, your vampyr feels threatened. That’s natural, but you must fight those instincts. They are mistaken. Remember my feelings. I won’t give you up. Understand?”

  She nodded.

  And held on to him tighter.

  In the end, they gathered in the kitchen, the men separating to the breakfast nook just across the eat-in bar. Even Peter. Aidan protested, but Garrick overruled him. “You interrupted our mating, and you know as well as I what that normally means. Kate’s vampyr is stirring.”

  “Need I remind you that you will soon become a member of the council? That we discuss vital war plans? Our unmated males are not privy to this, and you wish to share it with a were?”

  “As her guardian, Luc would have been a comfort to Kate, but out of respect for the council, I asked him to go to the were camp. Because he is unmated and may someday turn. My weres, however, couldn’t care less about the war.”

  Peter nodded. “Weres see your war as a vampyr affair and a vampyr affair only. Our sole interest is staying out of your way.”

  “They’ve been quite content to leave us to it, and the pack will ally with no other vampyr, much less a master, so you risk no spilled secrets. Peter reassures Kate in Luc’s stead.” Garrick glared. “He stays.”

  In the kitchen, Isabel leaned against a marble countertop. “Why do you suppose the men outfit our homes with kitchens? It’s not as though we need food.”

  Kate fidgeted at the island separating them from the men, struggling against the chaos of emotions tumbling inside her. Garrick loved her. He did. “I baked cookies for Peter and his mate once.”

  Isabel shuddered.

  She tried to be friendly, forced her lips to curl to a smile though her thoughts skittered restless energy and her pulse raced. “Garrick helped.”

  “Oh, I would’ve liked to have seen that.” Isabel laughed. “You are blessed in him, Kate. Garrick’s one of our best. I only wish my Aidan would heed his advice more often.” She shrugged. “Once he’s mated, perhaps they will all listen.”

  “All?” But Kate’s focus was on Garrick, the defensive stance of his body, the sweep of his angry hand as the men argued in low voices.

  “The council.” Isabel crossed to take her hand.

  She jumped, startled.

  “I’m sorry we interrupted your time with him, more sorry than I can say, but the masters hunt Garrick more than any other. I’m convinced it’s his fondness for the weres that so alarms them. Makes him unpredictable. They can’t align the Garrick they knew with the man he’s become.”

  Isabel darted a guarded, though no less curious, glance at Peter. “Masters hunted weres for millennia, stomped them out wherever they could find them. But your mate overcame his prejudices. He built a bridge, reached out to them. I think the masters fear Garrick will influence the rest of us into allying with the weres as well.” Isabel’s gaze returned to Kate. “Fully mated and allied with the council, he presents a far greater threat to them. They hunt the two of you, and by our reports, have tracked you to Louisiana.”

  Kate bit her lip. Her nostrils flared, trying to scent him, but too many smells—the woman’s subtle perfume, the other’s more masculine tang, the pungent fragrance of Peter’s were—they crowded in on her, hammered at her senses.

  His gaze found her. “Easy, love. I’m right here.”

  “The council fears for your safety.”

  Her skin itched. Her pulse shrieked vigorous warning, and no matter Garrick’s whisper of assurance in her mind, nothing could stop the creepy-crawly snake of anxiety that hissed and coiled inside her. “I don’t care about your council or your stupid war.”

  “Kate.” Isabel held her hand when she tried to yank it away. “Look at me.” When her eyes searched for Garrick instead, Isabel squeezed hard, and Kate gasped, shocked. “It will get better.”

  Kate pulled her hand.

  Isabel’s grip tightened.

  “Let go of me.”

  “I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but you’ll be better able to handle his absence soon. You won’t be so disturbed by the rest of us. What you’re feeling is natural, but that does not change the fact that you are in danger. You must help us convince Garrick to allow us to protect you. Bring the weres. I don’t care. Whatever it takes. We’ve found an isolated spot for you to finish your mating safely, in privacy. Just ask him to let us help. He’ll listen to you.”

  Peter growled from the breakfast nook.

  Kate’s heart thundered in her chest. She yanked at her hand. “Garrick!”

  Isabel released her. Hands raised, she stepped back.

  “Kate?” Garrick strode to her, wrapped her in his arms, Aidan close behind him.

  “What did you do?” Aidan said, glaring foul temper at his mate.

  “She and Garrick shared blood in the den. Her vampyr should have been appeased.” Isabel sighed. “Obviously not.”

  “Why couldn’t you leave this to me? You’ve made it worse. They’ll never come with us now.”

  “You can’t protect her.” Peter stalked into the kitchen, eyes narrowed to slits. “You don’t mask your scent. If my pack hadn’t followed your back trail to muddy your smell, masters would crawl the grounds of Pridemore already.”

  “It’d take a were to sniff us out, and none of the masters have allied with your kind. I’d know.”

  Peter laughed bitterly. “You know nothing.”

  “Hold on to me,” Garrick murmured to Kate, gathering her closer, but she still trembled. Why couldn’t she stop shaking?

  “Forget weres. You endanger her further the longer you remain.” Peter tapped his chest, the ropes of muscle and flesh that covered his heart. “Her vampyr cannot tolerate it.”

  Kate's eyes squeezed shut. Her fisted hands rose to her temples, pressing furiously to ease the awful racket in her head, but nothing worked; nothing helped. Her skull throbbed, full to bursting with scents, sounds, too many people talking, always talking. “Make it stop.”

  “Garrick—”

  “Get out.” He lifted her into his arms. “All of you.”

  Kate eyes snapped shut. Her nails dug into his neck to bind her to him, but the sounds in her head only echoed in more harsh discordance. Aidan’s determined plans for their protection. Isabel’s fear. Peter’s snarling, territorial anger. Their emotions crowded in on her, buzzed around her mind like swarming bees. “It hurts.”

  “She’s too vulnerable, and you tax your strength to defend her.” Kate cringed from the hand Aidan slapped to Garrick’s shoulder. “You can’t protect her alone.”

  “We won’t be alone.” Garrick jerked from Aidan’s touch. “Peter.”

  The were shoved the vampyr prince aside.

  “Tell the council I’ve gone to ground with my mate.” Garrick s
trode to the door. Each step stirred nausea in Kate’s stomach. “I’ll kill any man who tries to follow. Even you, Aidan. Especially you.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jeeps, trucks, motorcycles, boats, and every other manner of vehicle began trickling from Pridemore at dawn. Children and their mothers were the first to leave, followed by the pack’s lone unmated female.

  “I sent Leona with Taggart,” Peter told Garrick as he unrolled a heavy carpet.

  Garrick lay on it, snickered. “They’ll have mated by Tuesday.” He opened his arms and Kate, eyes dazed and glassy, curled atop him. Her fingers dug into his shoulders. Her thighs squeezed his hips. “They’ll be mated or dead.”

  “That’s the idea. Watch your feet.” Peter rolled the carpet around them.

  Kate shuddered in the inky darkness.

  “Hold on to me, love.” He nudged her chin to the crook of his shoulder.

  Kate didn’t need blood.

  She needed him.

  Just him.

  But his blood would comfort her. Comfort them both.

  Her teeth sank into him.

  “Luc’s gone?” he murmured, rubbing a lock of her hair between his fingers as she fed.

  “Half an hour ago. Thank you for asking him to accompany Elise.” Kate’s teeth mauled his neck when Peter lifted them and, stumbling under their combined weight, carried them outside.

  “Thank Luc. When I drafted you to double Kate’s security, he insisted on chaperoning your mate.” Garrick grunted when Peter dropped them, ungraciously, in the back of the jeep chosen for the trip. “He’s growing fond of weres.”

  Garrick barely heard Peter’s snort through the thick layers of carpet. “He’s no different than every other vampyr. He thinks weres are primitive, savage. Little better than vermin.”

  “I don’t think you’re vermin. Nor does Kate.”

  “You’re not typical vampyr.”

  In his arms, Kate drifted to sleep. “Neither is Luc.” Garrick waited until he heard the creak of Peter settling into the driver’s seat and the jeep door slam. “If it makes any difference, Luc thinks we’re all uncivilized, were and vampyr alike.” He laughed. “Himself included.”

  The engine roared to life. “He wouldn’t have considered protecting a were as a thing of any great importance if not for your influence. For that, I’m grateful.”

  After working through the night to ease Kate after Aidan’s harrowing intrusion, Garrick was bone-weary and spent. His exhaustion was nearly as complete as his mate’s. He felt the pull of slumber in the increasing weight of his limbs. The heaviness of his lashes made keeping his eyes open impossible. “His vampyr is maturing. Luc will begin nesting soon. He’ll build a sanctuary for his future mate.” Because his faith in Peter was inviolate, he didn’t fight sleep’s deadening effects, let his body go lax. “Your pack has grown fat with restless weres searching for excuses to challenge one another. Dangerous. And unnecessary.”

  “I don’t trust Luc.”

  “God forbid.” Garrick chuckled, letting his fatigue sweep over him. “Your trust should always and only belong to me.”

  “And Kate.”

  “And Kate,” he agreed, pulling her tightly against him. “Your confidence in Luc isn’t mandatory. Or preferable. You need only allow the weres in your pack to trust and ally with Luc themselves.”

  “I’ve been considering that,” he said after long moments.

  “Good,” Garrick said, his words slurring. “While you are, remember that I’ll become a member of the rebel council soon. My influence is spreading.”

  “That’s one way to win the war.”

  Garrick grunted sleepily. “I’ve always thought so.”

  * * *

  Peter drove through the morning and into the afternoon. He stopped for gas, ate whatever the stores inside offered, and checked his rearview mirror often. He doubled back on his route what felt like a thousand times, speared the jeep to exits at the last moment when he reached the highways. If the bloody vampyr had sent a tail, Peter lost him miles and hours ago.

  The sun was just sinking below the horizon when the weight of the bundle in the back shifted. “We’re outside Lubbock, Texas.” Peter flicked on the blinker, changed lanes. “I’ll pull over when we leave some of this congestion behind.”

  Garrick didn’t answer, but Peter didn’t expect him to. Kate’s husky grumble as she, too, awoke whispered in his ears. He needn’t focus his were senses to detect the brush of her lips against the shirt covering Garrick’s chest, but their gruff good-evening greetings to one another wouldn’t prevent the vampyr from seeing to the mechanics of Pridemore’s relocation to Arizona, if his attention were required. It wasn’t. Peter and Garrick had grown comfortable with each other over the years. If unexpected problems had arisen, Garrick knew Peter would’ve mentioned them. Otherwise, neither were nor vampyr felt the need to fill long silences with idle chatter.

  Which was why the lethargic rustle of the carpet stilled when Peter next spoke.

  “How deep do you expect your influence on the council to run?” He kept his tenor even, casual, but his knuckles on the steering wheel shone white. “Short-term.” Long-term, Peter had faith that Garrick would sway them. If he’d entertained doubts on that account, his pack would’ve abandoned Pridemore years rather than hours ago.

  But he’d never dared to hope change might come in his lifetime.

  “I haven’t been accepted into the council. As in the governing of your kind, mine has a great many rules to be followed. Rituals to complete.”

  Peter’s lips thinned in annoyance. “Your war has been an advantage to my people. While the vampyr fight one another, they’ve little interest in hunting weres.”

  “I’ve defended your pack for centuries. Then, my protection was vital, but I’m aware of how little I’ve been needed since.”

  Peter snorted. “I’m not stupid, Garrick. The pack isn’t reconsidering our alliance. Knowing you, this was probably part of your master plan. So save your infernal tact and diplomacy.”

  “I’m practicing for the council.”

  Peter’s mouth quirked. “God help me. I’ve allied with a politician.”

  Warm laughter drifted from the rear of the jeep.

  The smile faded. “But you agree that, strictly speaking, continuing the war is in the weres’ best interests.”

  “I admit in the past the masters hunted your kind for sport.”

  “By the rebellion, we were nearly extinct.” Peter hadn’t lived in those days, but like his fathers before him, he’d memorized the horrors that had been inflicted on his people. He’d passed the bitter warnings on to his children. “There were only dozens of us. Dozens.” His voice shook. “You know how difficult breeding is for us! We were that close to dying out.”

  “It wouldn’t be like that.”

  “When your war ends, it will be exactly like that.” Peter squeezed the steering wheel with clenched hands. “Oh, my pack will be safe, tucked behind whatever gilded cage you have planned for us—”

  “You’re free to come and go, Peter, whenever you like. Your son and daughter chose to live in the city and visit only when their beast forces them to hunt.”

  Peter glared impotent fury at the road. “Their beasts require no more than a few freshly butchered steaks. Laurel prefers her protein wrapped in cellophane, and Cole hates the bayou, always has.” He shrugged a stiff shoulder. “They returned to Pridemore only to maintain the strength of your mark.”

  “They’ll always have it. If it’s more convenient, I’ll go to them in the city.”

  “Your scent is their leash.” He pounded on the steering wheel. “Why do you fight so hard for your freedom, yet blind yourself to the slavery you’ve created?”

  “Do you think I want this? That I ever did?”

  “Garrick.”

  Kate’s soft reproach jabbed at Peter’s temper. Humiliation shredded him, made his voice sharp, cruel. “You claim to hate our vulnerability, but you�
��re eager to exploit it.”

  “I’m not exploiting you. I suggested Luc as another protector to branch out your pack, increase your numbers. I’m doing the best that I can!”

  “I love you, Garrick. I do.” He nosed the jeep into the lot of an abandoned department store, shoved the gear into park, and exhaled a weary breath. “But your best isn’t good enough.”

  Peter heaved himself from the seat, and rounding the jeep, he hauled the rolled carpet from the back to the cold hard cement. He unfurled the trailing edge, and Garrick’s furious jerks did the rest.

  The vampyr glared at him from the rectangle of carpet, but it was the sympathy in Kate’s stare, her hand a gentle restraint on Garrick’s shoulder that undid him.

  Garrick’s eyes narrowed to slits. “What do you want me to do?”

  Peter jerked a shoulder and glanced away. “What can you? As you said, you’ve done your best.”

  “And as you said, it’s not enough,” he said through clenched teeth. “You obviously have an idea, and I’m all out of them. Let’s hear it.”

  “How deep will your influence on the council run?”

  Kate rose to her feet, crossed her arms, and glared at the both of them. “He’s listening, Peter. Talk to him.”

  “Before we left Pridemore, Tim came to me. He's young, but born to be an alpha. He’ll approach Luc in Arizona, with my blessing. If Luc is willing, my pack will divide. But that’s only two alliances.” He darted a glance at Garrick. “I know of seven alphas, seven other packs, who’d ally with vampyr if they could.”

  Garrick rested his head against his bent knees, scrubbed tired hands across his face. His shoulders shook. “Seven. Luc’s makes eight.” He didn’t bother to try to smother his hopeless chuckle. “You don’t ask much. That would only cover…what? The whole of New England? Why not all of America? Why not the world?”

  Peter bristled. “The more of us who strike alliances, the less dark masters hunt us. One or two packs are slaves. We are confined to our cages, the limited territory our one or two protectors can guarantee our safety, but seven packs? Eight? Ten? We’d have a larger area of security, and with so many protectors, alliances would be a choice rather than a lack of alternatives.”