by M. L. Briers
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE
THESE ARMS OF MINE
By
A.B. LEE
And
M.L BRIERS
Copyright © 2017, M L Briers
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced whatsoever without written permission of the author, except for brief exerts in reviews. Any unauthorised reproduction or distribution of the material herein is illegal and may result in criminal proceedings. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded to the internet or distributed via electronic or print without prior consent.
Note from the Author;
All names, places, and incidents contained herein are purely fictional and have no basis in actual events or linked to actual Humans, Witches, Vampires, Werewolves, Lycans, Werebears or persons living, dead or undead.
Copyright © 2017, Cover Design by; LaLimaDesign
Table of Contents
THESE ARMS OF MINE
The Beginning…
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE
The Beginning…
~
Nathaniel’s head pounded like he should really know that feeling, but hadn’t felt it in over one hundred years.
His throat was scratchy and dry – like he’d licked sandpaper for a few hours and swallowed a few mouthfuls. His body felt like he’d been sick – really sick – the kind of sickness that he hadn’t felt since he’d turned. Every inch of him ached, throbbed, and not in a good way.
He tried to open his eyelids but even they felt like someone had glued them in place. He curled his fingertips against the cold, dank floor that scented of blood, rot, and death, and he tried to push up – he was weak – too weak – he hadn’t been weak since becoming a nightwalker – a vampire – part of the undead underworld that existed all around humans without them even knowing it.
For the first time in as long as he could remember he felt vulnerable. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t faced a fair share of death – including his own – but this was different. This wasn’t something that he’d ever had to face as an immortal…
He summoned everything that he had within him just to open his eyes – the sheer force of will sending his lids upwards. His super human vision failed him for a long moment – blackness surrounded him – the kind of blackness a human knew, not a vampire…
He was loathed to close his lids once more for fear that he wouldn’t be able to prise them open again. He waited for the fog to clear – focused – really focused – and there it was; the beginning of his vision coming back to him.
He almost rallied a happy thought at his prospects – after all, he’d never known a time as a vampire when he’d been so disadvantaged.
The room that he found himself in was obviously a cellar, but he had no idea whose. He didn’t remember getting there, and he certainly didn’t remember why he would have been taken there … it was as if … he hated to say it, even to himself … as if a vampire had wiped his memory, and the harder that he tried to recall the events that led to that room – the more his memories pulled back away from him, as if they were hiding within the shadowed parts of his mind – scared to raise their heads.
Vampire … that’s impossible…
There were only a handful of the immortal elite that could…
Damn it, who did I upset now?
I guess it was only a matter of time…
He tried to push up again and by sheer force of will he managed to move a muscle or two. He was getting slightly stronger, but that still didn’t … he tossed himself onto his back and stared up at the stone ceiling, watched a spider chase across the brickwork…
Tell me that I was not feed on…
That would be … insulting…
He knew one thing; he needed to find a way out before they decided to do … whatever they’d done to him again. He took the risk and closed his eyes as he summoned every ounce of strength that he could muster … then he forced his body to move, forced his muscles to hold in place, and he dragged his body to his knees.
Someone is going to pay for this…
I’m hungry …
I hate being hungry …
I need a nice succulent witch or two to feast on … human or three if I must … but beggars can’t be choosers, and right now … I’m not choosy.
Just hungry …
So very – very hungry.
CHAPTER ONE
~
Nathaniel McKenzie placed the palms of his hands against the cold tiled wall behind the shower and allowed the water to do its thing on his body. Finally; he felt like he could relax … just a little … just enough to take the edge off.
She’d clawed his back up with her nails real good for the last four hours as he’d taken her, over and over, right to the place that she wanted to be, and in return; he’d taken from her too.
Blood.
Human blood.
Not as potent as the blood of a supernatural being, but still damn tasty, and just what I needed to get my body back on track.
Being locked away in a cellar for however long it had been – without even a rat to drink from as he’d tried to find a way out – had given him the deep dark craving for the taste of blood upon his tongue that he hadn’t felt for a very long time, something akin to bloodlust, and he’d more than satisfied himself without letting the monster inside claim his soul.
His human companion would heal, was already, thanks to the drink of his own blood that he’d given her in with the wine.
He knew just the right amount to cause her body to heal and not send her systems into freefall, and now she was sl
eeping in his silk sheets, happy in every department that a man could satisfy a woman.
I might have gone a little overboard in that department too, but when you had a beautiful, more than willing woman in your bed, on your sofa, up against your wall, draped backwards, forwards, and sideways over the dresser… sometimes you just had to go for it – or that’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it.
“Nathaniel?” Morgana’s shrill voice pierced the air and shattered his new found good mood, and he groaned.
He regretted summoning her already. Especially with the woman still in his bed.
Oh good, my conscience has arrived.
The woman burst into the bathroom as if she belonged in his apartment, in his life, and he could only wish that she’d give him that kind of access to her bathroom.
Her jade green eyes were piercing as she took him in, and when they narrowed on him; he knew full well that he was about to get a lecture.
“I warned you that if you continued to drink from unsuspecting humans…” Her voice sounded just as piercing as her eyes against his sensitive hearing – now that he had his senses back; they seemed heightened – like he needed to get used to them again.
The shrill tone echoed off the bathroom walls and he groaned inwardly, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of seeing what that tone was doing to him.
She knew alright – the witch was all things savvy – and he was, apparently, the lowest of the low in her book, and yet, there she was, all fire and brimstone – and he loved it.
Loved winding her up – pulling her chain – and being a general pain in her backside…
Since the moment that he’d met her she’d made life a lot more than just interesting – she’d made it a damn challenge in his book. It had been a while since he’d had a woman like that in his life and he wasn’t about to let go of that rush so soon, even if she wasn’t as eager to keep their rather strange and plutonic relationship alive.
Truth be told; Morgana probably wished their friendship was as dead as he was … he could live with that – so to speak.
“Not unsuspecting … I told her what I was…” he corrected her; turning his body fully around to face her inside the shower cubicle.
The glass screen did nothing to cover his body or her blushes, but the thing was; she’d stopped blushing a long time ago at his antics. He missed that…
Morgana’s eyes swiped down his hard, naked body. Just the right amount of muscles that looked good on him. It was a quick flash – so to speak – which she couldn’t help, and did appreciate.
She felt a rush of excitement deep within her, and tried to squish it like a bug.
“Really?”
She drew her head back on her neck and gave him a look of pure disbelief. She even arched those perfect black eyebrows at him just for the added impact in case he needed a map of her disinterest in what he had to offer.
Not that she was disinterested – more – keeping her toes out of that particular pond.
“Sort of…” He offered back; conceding just a little for her benefit.
Nathaniel gave her his perfectly – perfected blank expression back. Even if he was grimacing on the inside; he figured that she didn’t need to know that just then.
She offered him back a look that said she didn’t believe him for one moment. And there they were in a standoff … again.
“Explain,” she demanded.
The moment that she placed her hands on her curvy hips; he knew that he was in trouble. Nathaniel sighed inwardly.
The only trouble with calling the wicked witch of the west side was that she was always so judgemental.
I should have learned my lesson by now, but she’s just so damn good at her craft…
I need that now. I need good.
“This…” he motioned to his naked body and saw her eyes flicked down once more. “Or…?”
“That…” she lifted her hand and pointed back into the bedroom…
Yep… judgemental…
“I told her what I was just before … or was it once I had my…?” He rolled his brown eyes to the ceiling in faux remembrance, and heard the witch sigh in annoyance. So he offered her the kind of smirk that annoyed her so.
“Perhaps it was when she was on her knees and sucking on my…”
“Ok, enough!” Morgana went to turn to leave …
She certainly had better things to do than to listen to the vampire recounting his night of debauchery with some painted up bed bunny.
From the sounds of it; the woman had gotten just what she was looking for. She couldn’t fault her for that – if that was her thing, and she supposed she couldn’t expect anything more from a Vampire.
Even him, or was it; especially him?
She couldn’t always tell anymore. He coloured the edges and made everything blurry.
She’d spent most of her time avoiding the dark realm of vampires, shifters, and the other, more sinister side of the supernatural world. But after meeting him; she’d been plunged head first into it, or was it backside first – that was kind of a blur as well.
When death came knocking at your door, you didn’t have to let it in, but you certainly needed to take notice that it was there.
“I could give you a firsthand re-enactment…”
“Nathaniel…” She huffed, and stopped in place.
“Too soon into our blossoming relationship?”
He had that teasing quality to his voice that she’d come to know well. It was a lot different to the melodic quality of his voice when he was trying to persuade her into doing something that she didn’t want to do … thankfully, neither one worked on her anymore.
CHAPTER TWO
~
“Do I look impressed with your antics?”
Morgana gave him a deathly stare and folded her arms for good measure, and he took a moment to study her. There was a hungry look within his eyes for just a second, and then it was gone.
He liked to stare at her – trying to psych her out, and it happened every chance that he got, but right then; she was in no mood to be played with. She turned for the door once more…
“I didn’t call you here to recount my night of sinfully good pleasure…” he called after her, wincing on the inside at his own words, and she ground to a halt again.
Her top lip twitched with annoyance. Her eyes narrowed to slits in her head and she sighed inwardly.
The only thing worse than being in the presence of a vampire was being in the presence of a vampire that you owed a favour – a favour that could never be repaid – not until he said it was – and she got the distinct feeling that Nathaniel was going to drag it out for as long as humanly possible.
“With the bed bunny?”
She folded her arms across her chest, and berated him with just a look over her shoulder. She didn’t turn all the way back towards him because that would mean that he’d won a small victory, won the point, and she hated the thought of that.
Right then; she was neither in the room nor was she out of it – she was the Schrodinger’s Cat of blackmail – hovering on leaving, and keeping him on his toes to behave himself.
One wrong word and she would be gone, and he wanted something from her, but what would the price be to her moral compass?
“Meow – Morgana …” He made a show of thinking for one very long moment, considering something... “Morgana…”
“I think we both know my name, Nathaniel…”
“Why did your parents hang a big sign over your head saying; witch here?” He asked.
She slowly turned her body towards him, and her eyes took another flick down the hard ridges of his body again. There was a bubbling of nervous energy mixed with excitement inside of her that she wanted to take a really big sledgehammer to.
“My you are taking in your fair share of me today – wait…!”
He held up his finger and she frowned a little, twisting her head on her neck, and waiting for the punchline. Then he pointed downwards, and her
eyes followed.
There he was, having risen to the occasion; rock hard, and the damn thing was twitching against the glass panel like it was tapping hello.
Morgana felt the rush of amusement rush to the surface. How she hated that the damn man could make her so mad one moment and then make her laugh the next.
She pressed her lips together so that she didn’t smile, and with it; she dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands for much the same effect. She wouldn’t let him win.
“I could make that go away permanently for you.” She didn’t know how she’d managed to get the threat out with a straight face.
One thing about Nathaniel was that he always managed to make her laugh. Even when she didn’t want to, he always came up with something. He was akin to that movie character that you loved to hate.
He’d made her laugh the very first time that they’d met. A time when she’d truly been at her lowest ebb, and for her sins he’d somehow managed to do it every time since.
The man was a vampire, yes, but he wasn’t all bad. That’s what she half hated about him – the fact that she couldn’t really hate him at all.
“Not permanently, but if you’d like to get in here with me and…”
“Nathaniel…” she bit out, feeling the heat reach her cheeks, as she forced her magic to glamour it away. “I have other things to do.” She offered with her best bored expression and hoped that it stuck.
“Of course you do, busy-busy witch,” he waved a hand, dismissing her protest, her excuse – she always seemed to have one for him.
“Did you call me here for a reason or just bragging rights?”
“Bragging rights … hmm … interesting choice of words.”
He considered that one for a long moment; while she resisted the urge to fidget from one foot to the other as she squirmed slightly under the scrutiny that he was giving her.
“I really don’t have time for this…” She turned to leave again…
“Bragging rights would imply that you were in some way interested in me or the female, and as you don’t know her then that could only mean that you were interested in – not so little old me…” He was back to toying with her again.