by Milly Taiden
“Camels. Stout enough to withstand the sands and the mountains.”
She shook her head. “All we have is what you see. You are welcome to them, but please leave something for the exchange.”
The king growled and his eyes flashed. The woman’s face paled and she took a step back. Jag moved his horse ahead and got her attention. “We will leave our horses, but if we return to find you’ve sold them, the consequences will be great. But if we return and find them well cared for, you will be rewarded ten times the worth of the camels we borrow.”
She inclined her head again, and with a single swipe of her hand, three camels were brought forward. “You can fill the canteens at the spring you’ll pass on the way to the mountains.”
Vander nodded his thanks and mounted, the others doing the same. With a swift kick to the camel’s flank, he took off, hooves kicking sand in a storm behind him. They stopped at the spring and as soon as jag dismounted, he stopped.
“Looks like someone beat you to him, Damen.” He gestured at the two decomposing bodies. “If memory serves, one of these unfortunate assholes is Nico.”
Damen stood beside Jag and nodded. “Well, at least it was a blade.”
Jag laughed. “Dude, you and your knives.” He clapped him on the shoulder. “Over the years, I’ve learned to multitask, and my senses have as well. We might have been occupied with Maddox, but one of those hot numbers standing with the matchmaker was creaming in her panties for you.”
He laughed. “That’s funny, because the little one had eyes only for you and the way she licked her lips, dude, you need to jump on that.”
Vander maneuvered his camel, the beast stomping its front legs. “Keep your dicks in your pants and your heads in the game or you can both head back to the palace for a playdate.”
The two shut up and filled the hipflasks and they set off, riding to where the sand met the base of the first mirror mountain.
“We’re not far. Bors wouldn’t take her back to his camp. He couldn’t protect her there, not if he’s planning to sell her in one piece.”
Vander’s eyes flashed and he growled again.
“Bro, keep a lid on that beast. We’re on the same side.” Jag shook his head.
The sun was setting and the king pushed his camel farther. When they crested the first craggy path, he stopped. “She’s close. I can feel her.”
They climbed the base steppes and as the path wound, the elevation rose. Temperature dropped and patches of snow could be seen on the cliffs above. Vander urged his camel higher until he stopped again, but this time he slid from his saddle.
“We go on foot from here. She’s near. Very near.” His eyes scanned the rocky terrain and he froze. A single curl of smoke, almost invisible to the eye, poked through the thickening gloom. “There!”
He raced full speed, his clothes tearing from his body as the xenos took him. With a single leap, he landed on an outcrop, and a roar unlike any other echoed against the rock face.
Jag looked at Damen and the two took the rear flank. Vander needed to do this. Alone.
His body shook and muscles ripped and reshaped, the xenos seizing him until he stood, majestic and lethal. An ancient cat with fangs as long as a man’s arm. Massive muscles bunched and released as the beast moved in for the kill. Its powerful neck swung back and forth, scenting for its quarry.
A woman’s scream sent it racing forward. It crashed through the makeshift camp, razor claws shredding men and animals in its wake. A tent flap flew back and Bors ran out, his blade dripping with blood. He skidded to a halt as he faced the great cat.
“Vander!” Ivy yelled, running from the tent clutching the shreds of her top to her breasts. She stopped, her eyes flying wide with fear and she screamed again, only this time Jag and Damen moved to flank the tawny beast.
“Ivy?” Jag asked, his jaw hardening at her torn clothes.
She nodded. “Is tha…tha…that Vander?”
Damen nodded. “Yes, and he’s not quite himself as you can see, so unless you want to die, I suggest you move very carefully. You are the only one who can tame the inner animal.”
She swallowed. “Yeah, except it’s not so inner anymore.”
Jag cracked a smile. “True, still. It’s you, Ivy. Even I’m not safe and I’m his brother.”
Ivy’s eyes moved to Jag and she nodded. “Nice to meet you. I’m sure you never thought you’d meet your future sister-in-law like this, but hey—”
Damen looked from her to Bors and back again. “Is he the reason your clothes are in shreds?”
Ivy looked at the man and the glint of his blade in the moonlight. “No. The man responsible for that is dead. His blood is on Bors’s knife.” Her mouth slid into a harsh line. “Not out of concern for me, but because my value would have dropped if—”
Vander’s cat roared, sinews coiled and ready to attack at the implication.
Damen gestured to her gently. “Walk toward me, Ivy. Keep your movement slow.” She took a single step, but Bors grabbed her around the shoulders and held his blade to her neck.
“I’ll slit her fucking throat!”
Damen and Jag froze, and the cat screamed, the sound ricocheting off the mountains. The pack camels reared and stomping at the feral sound. Ivy used the distraction and sunk her teeth into Bors hand, breaking his flesh, drawing blood.
The man hissed, loosening his grip on her and the blade. She swung her arm back, her fist hitting him square in the balls. He dropped the knife, sucking in a high-pitched wheeze. Ivy slipped under his arm as he doubled over, racing toward Jag as the cat attacked.
Hind legs released and the cat launched itself, jaws wide. His massive mouth chomped down, lifting Bors head first, its giant canines impaling the man’s skull. With a single shake, it snapped the man’s neck, shattering every bone in his spine, letting him slump to the ground.
Jag stood watching, his arm around Ivy as she buried her face in his chest, her hands clutching what was left of her clothes. “I thought you said the beast took chunks out of its victim and let it bleed out before devouring it,” he said, leaning toward Damen.
“I said that’s what the archives alleged.”
Jag shrugged, tightening his grip on Ivy’s cowering frame. “So much for historical record.”
The cat stood panting, its muzzle covered in blood, its muscles still roiling with non-expelled anger. Damen elbowed Jag. “You want to tell Vander it’s over?”
The prince snorted. “Would you? I’m not sure Vander is still Vander in there.”
Ivy let go of her hold on Jag and dragged in a steadying breath. Vander had come for her, and the cost was high. The mark on her breast prickled, and she knew what she had to do.
She moved from Jag’s side and approached the giant predatory cat. Sinking to her knees, she reached with one hand, her fingers sinking into its soft mane. “It’s over, Vander. Come back to me, love. Please.”
The cat lifted its head and turned its glowing green eyes to hers. She stroked the animal’s nose, kissing the soft top. What sounded like a low purr formed in its throat and in a snap of bone and sinew, the cat threw its head back and screamed again, but this time as the sound echoed, Vander slumped forward on all fours. Naked and exhausted.
“Well. I guess we’re making camp here tonight. I don’t know about you, but I do not want to be around him if he has to ride that camel in the buff. Ouch!”
“Shut up, Jag. Go find me some clothes.” He glanced over his shoulder at Damen. “And you move that other body out of the tent and toss it with this one on a pyre. We don’t want to attract wild animals.”
He laughed out loud. “Attract? Dude, you’re the king of them all.”
Needing her hands to help Vander, Ivy knotted what was left of the crisscross bodice, waiting with him as the others cleared the area.
She helped him up and into the tent. “Let me get water and clean you up,” she said, pouring from a large skin flask into an empty bowl. He moved to one of the cots an
d slumped down as she tore the side of her pants, using the cloth to clean the blood from his skin and face.
“I knew you’d come for me,” she murmured.
He slipped a hand behind her head. “Always, Ivy. You’re mine.”
Her hand slipped over his chest to the claw marks, only now swirls had formed between the jagged strokes that matched the ones on her breast. She untied the makeshift knots at her side and let the shredded top fall to her waist. Lifting his hand, she put it on the mark.
“A matching set.” She chuckled. “Like luggage.”
He smirked, letting his fingers fall to cup its full weight. Grazing his thumb over her nipple, he slid a hand behind her head and pulled her close. His lips hovered over hers and his tongue traced their outline. “You’re marked, Ivy Grimaldi. My xenos has claimed you, as do I.”
His mouth crushed to hers and he let his hand slip to her waist, untying what was left of her silken pants. The material floated to the floor in a satiny puddle and he lifted her so she straddled his hips, his cock slipping deeply inside.
“Forever,” he murmured driving up, lifting her high.
She gasped, arching back to roll her hips, her body taking every inch of him. “Forever.”
Epilogue
Ivy glanced at her flowy dress with a grin. Man, it felt good to find a man who truly loved her. Now all she needed was the others to hurry up so they could leave for Cassie’s baby’s naming ceremony in Aurora. She twirled in her dress, loving how soft it felt.
“Are you that happy over the dress or what happened before?” Vander said, sliding his hands around her waist and pulling her back. His rock-hard body pressed against her back, heating her insides instantly.
She met his gaze through the mirror and shook her head with a grin. “You are such a perv. You’re lucky these dresses allow you to do whatever you want and don’t wrinkle.”
He lowered his head, kissed her neck and whispered by her ear. “We can keep trying to see if we can get it to wrinkle.”
She laughed and turned in his arms, grabbing the back of his head, pulling him in for a kiss. “That will never happen. I already know how your textile works, my king.”
He raised a brow, his lips growing wide with a smile. “My king? You’ve only used that when you want to get your way.”
She shrugged. “There’s something I want to tell you.”
He met her gaze, curiosity sparking in the depths of his eyes. “Are you okay?”
She licked her lips and glanced down at his mouth before meeting his gaze again. “I’m pregnant.”
He kissed her lips, his hands around her waist pulling her even closer. “I know, love.”
She sighed, giving him a playful slap on his huge bicep. “Dammit! I knew it. Gerri told me a few minutes ago and I figured if I told you right away, I might have a chance of surprising you.”
She groaned and allowed him to pull her to one of the chairs facing the garden. He sat down and pulled her onto his lap.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. There’s nothing I don’t notice about you. The immediate change of scent gave it away.” He cupped her chin and made her meet his stare. “I’ll always protect you, my queen. And I know it will be different for you to be pregnant here, but whatever you need, tell me and I’ll make it happen. Your happiness is my priority.”
She smiled, her heart swelling with love and hugged him tight. Damn. She was scared shitless of having a baby on an alien planet, but when he said things like that, he calmed all her fears and reminded her how perfect he was as a mate and how amazing he’d be as a father. Their amazing journey as a couple was just beginning.
The End
Keep reading for a peek at my friend Marianne Morea’s Hunter’s Blood up next.
Untitled
HUNTER’S BLOOD
Marianne Morea
“Lily! Lily wake up! You’re having a nightmare…Lily!” If there were ever a time when Terry Hess missed her human form, it was now. She lifted her translucent hand to Lily’s shoulder and tried to wake her, but only managed to raise goose bumps.
“Lily Ellen Saburi!” she shouted at the top of her lungs, grateful her psychic friend was the only one who could hear her.
Lily sat straight up in bed, her hand gripping the .45 Caliber pistol tucked under her pillow. Her eyes flew around the room, disoriented. Drenched in a cold sweat, she leveled the gun at shadows, her surroundings slowly becoming more familiar.
“Jesus! Will you put that thing down before you hurt yourself? With the way you’re swinging it around, I ought to be happy people can’t die twice!”
Exhausted, Lily slumped against the headboard. She hadn’t slept much in the past weeks. Two weeks to be exact. That’s all it had been since Terry died, and it wasn’t too long afterward that she appeared in her new ethereal form. Lily exhaled, placing her gun on the nightstand and taking a cigarette from the pack next to the cheap lamp bolted to the pressed wood. She stuck the stick between her lips, lit it, and blew smoke into the already musty air. The room was dim, the ambient light from the motel’s neon vacancy sign its only illumination.
“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” Terry said from across the room.
“Which? Smoke, or wake up screaming from nightmares haunting me since the night you were murdered? Take your pick.”
“Neither, but you don’t have to be so bitchy about it.”
“Hmmmff. What time is it?” Lily asked, squinting at the clock radio adjacent to her gun.
“Almost eleven p.m.”
Throwing her legs over the side of the bed, Lily stretched. “Time to get moving.” With a wink, she took one last drag of her cigarette before stubbing it out in the half-filled ashtray. “It’s almost witching hour.”
She padded barefoot into the bathroom and snapped on the light. Its harsh fluorescent glare made her lack of sleep all the more obvious. She grimaced at her own reflection.
The water in the tap was cold, but she splashed her face anyway, despite the gooseflesh that spread across arms. Lily looked up, water droplets dripping from her chin to her chest, to see Terry’s translucent form staring back at her from the mirror.
“Don’t do this tonight, Lily. This isn’t who you are.”
Lily grabbed a towel from the wire rack above the sink and patted her face dry. “Yeah, well, maybe that was true two weeks ago, but not anymore.”
She dropped the towel onto the edge of the sink and walked out, leaving the bathroom light on as she headed to the small round table in the corner. On top, sat enough weaponry to outfit a small army.
“Lily, please…,”
“Shut up, Terry. This isn’t your concern,” she answered, not bothering to look up as she loaded another clip into the magazine of her gun.
“It certainly is my concern! You’re my concern! Lily, for Christ’s sake, revenge is not the answer!”
Lily’s lip curled. “Yeah, but it feels fucking great,” she shot back, but quickly lost her satisfied smile when she saw tears glistening like diamonds on her friend’s cheek.
Momentarily stunned, Lily didn’t realize shades could cry. Great, one more thing my psychic ability failed to pick up on.
With a sigh, she put the gun down and walked around the bed to where her friend sat—well sort of sat—on the edge of the dresser. “Terry, don’t.”
Lily reached toward her friend then shoved her hands into her pockets. She wanted to hug Terry, tell her it would be okay, but couldn’t. Her hand would pass through, anyway.
At the impotent feeling, her anger bubbled to the surface again. It was fathomless, and every time she thought of what happened, it crashed through her thin calm veneer, flooding her with bitterness. Pressing her lips together, she fisted her hands inside her black leather jeans, steeling herself against the onslaught.
“Lil, you’ve got to stop this. It’s not doing either of us any good. What’s done is done. What, you want to get yourself killed so you can join me? I’m a shade because I chose to stay on this
plane, even though my time here is done. I’ve made my peace with what happened. Why can’t you? You’re the only reason I’m choosing to stay earthbound. You need to get past all this hate and resentment, for both of us.”
She didn’t say a word, but sat on the edge of the bed and continued to pack her weapons. She could hear Terry’s frustrated sigh behind her but said nothing.
“I’ve watched your guilt and your anger eat at you, driving you crazy since I died. I convinced myself that it, too, would pass. Never in a million years did I think you were serious about this revenge ride you’ve been on—that is until you started your little practice runs. Christ, Lily! You tracked another vampire last night! What are you looking to do, become a vigilante against the entire supernatural world?”
Lily shrugged. “Pretty much.”
It amazed Lily how easy it was to recognize supes now that she was attuned to them. She had spotted the vampire last night as it tracked potential prey in Grand Central.
As much as she hated to give them credit, the bloodsuckers were patient hunters, but then again so was she.
She watched the supe focus on a solitary male as he headed unsuspectingly out the Forty Second Street exit. But wasn’t until its potential victim crossed Fifth Avenue and passed the darkened entrance to Bryant Park that it attacked.
Stepping out of the shadows, Lily pointed her gun at the vampire’s head. “Hungry tonight?” she taunted. The fanged creature jerked its head in her direction and hissed, baring fangs.
What sounded like a half-swallowed whimper sprang from its victim, followed by the pungent smell of urine as the terrified guy stood too scared to move.
“Now would be a good time to run,” she said not taking her eyes off the vampire. Reading the creature’s fury and its thirst, Lily knew it was going to strike. With its fangs dripping saliva, the vampire lunged, its clawed hands reaching for her throat, but Lily was ready.
She swung her crossbow from under her duster and shot the bloodsucker point blank in the chest with a wooden arrow. The leech didn’t even see it coming.