Sanibel Surrender Vampire Werewolf Menage (Fanged Romance Series Book Five)

by Scott, Talyn

  “He’s biting him!” she then screamed. To Heath’s complete shock, she jumped on his back and started pummeling him with her tiny fists. Ail picked that perfect time to arch up and Molly inadvertently flew on her ass, nearly clocking her head on a bedside table. He couldn’t let go of Ail and he couldn’t throw any coercion her way, because everything he had was directed to Ail. Not releasing his bite from Ail’s nape, he shook him several times and placed one knee into his lower back. With his opposite hand, he crushed his windpipe. Unfortunately, Molly had slung off one platform and was now brandishing it as a weapon, coming at him cautiously as though she didn’t want to hit him but figured she didn’t have a choice.

  “No!” he warned her around a mouthful of Ail’s nape, but it came out as a distorted growl. The vampires could easily understand him, but not his lass.

  Oycher tilted his head, shaking it slightly. “Beast, shall I intercept your mate so she doesn’t harm herself.”

  What other choice did he have? “Aye.”

  Oycher placed a leather-clad hand on Molly’s arm, pulling her back to his chest and gently removing her makeshift weapon from her trembling hand. She swung her head back to deliver a head-butt, though in vampiric speed, Oycher easily evaded the move. To his credit, the Vojak remained stoic through her Ballbuster efforts.

  “If you calm yourself, your males will,” Oycher whispered into her ear. “Are you strong enough to do that?”

  Apparently, Molly wasn’t going to listen and plowed into Oycher full swing, first elbowing him and then kicking his shins like a ninja wannabe. “Let me go!”

  Oycher brought her back a few feet. “Not yet.”

  Ail went bonkers. Still, Heath managed to keep hold of his nape, his canines digging in deeper by the second. He tried desperately not to harm him, but it proved difficult. The whole scene was developing into a circus atmosphere.

  Maestru walked right up to them, his power crackling through the air, mingling with their Beasts. “Enough! We are here to investigate the scene of a killing, and you are preventing that, Young Ruyter.”

  “A killing?” Immediately, Molly stopped struggling. “What killing?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Heath watched Molly’s face pale, her body going limp as if she were dissolving before him. Oycher held her tightly yet respectfully. If there was anything that he knew about Oycher, he didn’t inappropriately touch another male’s mate. But Ail didn’t know that. Plus, Oycher was a vampire. Luckily, Mason, Terje, and Rune misted in then, all in full transformation, and forced Ail to the roof. It was a vicious scene with Ail biting and making cruel swipes at his brother and friends. But that was nature. One never, ever came between a werewolf and his mate. Heath wondered what the consequences would be for them, if Ail would ever trust him again.

  He managed to tamp his Beast, wavering in and out, watching as Molly’s mouth gaped, tears streaming her face. She was confused, angry, and hurt. He could smell her bubbling emotions, though, thankfully, she was no longer scared.

  “So,” she said, her voice scratchy from her screams, “when I thought I’d seen a werewolf, I hadn’t.”

  “No, not exactly, lass,” he replied, forcing his eyes away from the closet. Maestru was already inside, easily sniffing out Wilson after the other werewolves had hauled Ail away. Molly was still in Oycher’s arms, though she now remained virtually immobile, her lips pressed into a thin line. “But that’s the brunt of it so long as I’m not angry.”

  Her mouth opened, forming an o. “You weren’t angry just then?”

  He shook his head. “Nay and we’ll discuss this at a more appropriate time, please.” Addressing Oycher, he said. “Did Bane call you?”

  “Yes, but we were already in route.”

  Already in route meant that the Vojaks had a full investigation going and Heath wondered what that meant, if anything, for poor Ail’s circumstance. Seeing that the Coven Master was attending also signaled the significance of this particular investigation. Maestru didn’t stop his Coven leading duties for just anything. “Tell me that you are progressing with this investigation and that you are narrowing down countless leads.”

  Molly held up her hand, cutting Oycher’s reply off, which surprised both of them. “Why did that vampire say he was here regarding a killing and then entered my walk-in?” Deftly, she pulled away from Oycher, only because he allowed it, and braced her hands on her hips. She had one shoe on and one off, standing completely lopsided. He leaned down, and removed her other shoe so she wouldn’t twist her ankle. Placing her wee hand on his shoulder, she steadied herself. And the simple fact that she was brave enough to touch him after seeing him in full transformation stroked his very soul.

  He lifted himself and wrapped protective arms around her. “Bodies seem to be goin’ down around you, my mate.”

  “I'll let your mate explain. By the way, Heath, that security guard didn’t make it,” Oycher supplied quietly before he curiously investigated the master suite. Then he misted through the rest of Molly’s condominium, leaving Maestru to investigate Wilson.

  “Chuck?” she asked. “He’s dead?”

  He threw soothing compulsion her way. “Aye, I’m sorry.” He stroked her from the top of her head to her lower back.

  “I feel that,” she snapped and pushed his compulsion away.

  “Allow me to help you. It’s my way,” he countered.

  “It’s not my way,” Molly argued, shaking her head and pushing on his chest to look up at him. “I don’t want to be coddled. What I want is for you to tell me what killing took place here, or I’m walking over to that closet to see for myself.” She pressed her hands over her shorts, the nervous gesture he had seen Tatum do so many times before. “I sure have an idea.”

  Heath sensed another Vojak misting inside the closet. He knew most of them, but this one wasn’t familiar. In fact, his power trail felt like that of a youngling. Undoubtedly, they were discreetly moving Wilson’s body to the Joint Faction Facility. Eventually, in the mortal world, he would be classified as a missing person. “It was Wilson.”

  “Wilson,” she repeated, the color quickly draining from her already pale face. “The same Wilson I saw just hours ago at the restaurant. The same Wilson I dated for years and then married. The same Wilson I ranted about a few minutes ago while he lay dead a few feet away.” A shiver tore through her, one that rattled her teeth. “That Wilson?”

  Easily, he could send stronger compulsion her way, bending her mind to forget and go into a relaxing slumber, but they had to get to the bottom of this so they could fight their way to the top. “We have to know what’s going on with you, lass. The vampire who stalked you at your workplace is the one doin’ the killin’. We need to find out what’s going on, not just for you, but for Ail. He’s in trouble, lass, for protectin’ you.”

  Her head snapped her, fire replacing her tears. “What kind of trouble?”

  “Blood for Blood,” Maestru said, gliding up to them. “The widow to the Gryph he killed on the Sanibel Causeway is demanding he die. However, he is scheduled to a trial beforehand – Blood for Blood.”

  “Who are you?” she asked, her eyes moving up and down Maestru. Though Maestru was striking, even for a vampire, Heath knew that his Molly wasn’t checking out the Coven Master in a sexual sense, she was summing him up.

  Maestru smiled, showing his razor-sharp fangs. He was far from stupid, knew that Molly was trying him on for size. “Your sister, Renee, asked me that very question once.”

  “And what did you say?”

  “Ask her.”

  Molly curled her lip. “Whoever you are, no one’s taking my Ail away from me.” Then, she blinked a few times, wondering at the way she phrased her statement.

  “He is your Ail,” Heath whispered. “Tis good you feel protective of him, a step in the right direction.”

  “Then if you feel so strongly, sister of the Alpha, you can answer a few questions, no matter how pointed they are.”

  “Th
at depends,” she said in her surliest voice, “if you’re trying to help Ail or hurt him.” Looking between Heath and Maestru, she was silently asking Heath for guidance.

  “Ask your questions and we’ll see where this leads, Coven Master,” Heath directed Maestru. In turn, the vampire gave him a can-you-handle-this look. He lifted his chin. “Go ahead.”

  Maestru’s obsidian eyes fixated back on Molly. “What sort of sexual relationship did you and your deceased husband have? I believe, in the mortal world, the term is open marriage or open relationship."

  “How can you," she stopped and took a deep breath. "We had no such thing as an open marriage. I was faithful and Wilson cheated. There was nothing open about it because he was hiding it from me the whole time. Just for the record, I left him after I had visual proof of his cheating.”

  Maestru brought his hand to his chin, tapping his bottom lip with a long finger. “You never frequented any underground clubs?”

  “How can there be underground anything in Florida?” she asked.

  “Not exactly what I’m asking, Molly.”

  Heath didn’t like where this was going, but he pressed. “What he means is sex clubs.”

  Molly stomped her foot, wincing when she remembered that she was barefoot. “What do you take me for?”

  “I do not know you, at all,” Maestru explained, his head tilting to the side when Oycher returned. “You never invited anyone here to participate in what mortals would consider adventurous sex?"

  "Absolutely not," she said, gritting her teeth.

  Maestru asked Oycher, "What do you have, Commander?”

  “A confirmation of my suspicions, Master.” Oycher held black, leather pants with Wilson’s scent all over them. Along with that of the vampire who obviously killed Wilson. And the only thought rolling around in Heath’s mind was that Wilson had gotten Molly into a nigh impossible situation.

  “Where did those pants come from?” Molly’s brow furrowed, clearly, she’d never laid eyes on them. Heath scented no deception on her part.

  “The small attic opening above your laundry room,” Oycher explained. “There’s more: whips, costumes, and pictures - many incriminating pictures.”

  “Pictures?” She backed away, her hand hovering over her thundering heart. “Of Wilson and his…lovers?”

  “Yes, though none of them are with you.”

  “Of course, they aren’t with me,” she retorted.

  Molly was dumbfounded, and Heath knew it. So did the vampires, for that matter. What exactly was going on here? Heath’s werewolf slammed against his skull and a growl left his chest. He gripped his head, releasing a string of blistering profanity. Though out of respect for Molly’s ears, he kept his outburst in a language she wouldn’t understand. Maestru didn’t step back, wasn’t afraid of Heath going into mid or even full transformation.

  Molly had her hands in front of her, fisting them as if she wanted to take on the vampires. “For the past few days, I have seen and have heard stuff I only thought happened in movies, but I will not listen to this! I knew he was cheating on me…but you’re saying it’s much worse than I thought.”

  “Yes.” Maestru susurrated, “There are two things that I believe. One is that your ex-husband attended immortal sex clubs or had secret rendezvous with a specific male vampire. Two is that whatever vampire he was having an affair with became enamored of you.” The wind went out of her sails, and Heath managed to grab her before she hit the floor. Molly never drifted into unconsciousness, though; she was sagging quite a bit.

  “Did you do this?” He questioned Maestru discreetly, asking if he coerced his Molly in order to calm her. That would be an appalling action, even from a vampire. Molly was his mate to aid, not Maestru’s Bride.

  “Relax, Tracker, I did not.” Maestru walked to the window, his eyes darting everywhere. “Wilson has the scent of a Dynasty Vampyr.”

  “I know his smell.” Then Heath placed a kiss on Molly’s head. “I confirmed the bite was the same as was with the guard.”

  “Not just that, Wilson carries the blood of the Dynasty Vampyr. At first, it was hard to tell, since he was nearly drained, but I think he had been ingesting vampire blood.”

  “From a Dynasty Vampyr?” Heath asked in faux disbelief.

  “Yes.”

  “That’s impossible." Trying to coax more information out of the Coven Master, he added, "It’s very poisonous, even to an immortal. Deadly on most accounts."

  “Precisely, and I think your mate is carrying that blood as well. There’s one way to confirm it.” He turned slowly, his mouth curving with a mocking smile.

  “Ask Dru then,” Heath stated firmly. “Dru misted Molly here. Though he didn’t feed from her, he certainly made a point about her taste.”

  “Bitter?” Oycher asked. “Spicy?”

  Heath’s own blood ran cold. He’d tasted Molly himself, when he’d marked her. She was both of those things, even though he found her tantalizingly delicious. “Aye.”

  Oycher said softly, “When it comes to a Blood for Blood court, do you really think Ail’s brother-n-law will be considered an unbiased witness? Yes, Dru is a respected member of our Coven; still, the defendant is a werewolf youngling.”

  “Who would be an unbiased witness to her blood?” Heath asked through clenched teeth, dreading the answer.

  “The Coven Master,” Oycher continued in his quiet tone, “or a Vampyr Vojak who is not co-mated with a werewolf.”

  “There’s one other thing,” Maestru added, losing his strange smile. “It’s the reason that I can prove Wilson was involved in a sexual relationship with a Dynasty Vampyr, which, since he is entirely human, is completely illegal in our vampiric world. Her former husband was marked.”

  Molly’s nostrils flared. “Marked, in what way?”

  “A vampiric claiming mark that stays permanently on the skin,” Maestru said to Molly. “I’m thinking you are, too.”

  "I'm am no such thing!"

  Heath interjected, "I've seen every square inch of my lass’ body and I must agree. She has no markings besides Ail’s and mine, certainly no personal branding of a Dynasty Vampyr."

  "Due to their illegal nature, they are formed in the most discreet of places," Oycher said rather reluctantly. "The mark is usually placed in the pubic area or in the crevice of the human or mixed blood’s backside." He smiled at Molly apologetically. "Forgive my bluntness."

  Molly turned, her eyes meeting the closed door of her closet. "So you're saying Wilson had this mark somewhere on his body."

  Maestru shook his head, his black hair sliding over his shoulders. "During investigations, the same mark has been located on several drained mortals. The blood trail started a few months ago, upon your trip to Miami."

  Molly whipped her head around. "You've been following me since Miami?"

  "Not at all,” Maestru explained. “Similar to your mortal police investigations, vampires investigate killings involving other vampires. They’re reported in their districts and compiled with other investigations when a definite pattern is noticed."

  Heath glared at Oycher. "When you were at that Joint Faction Meeting, unofficially charging Ail, how could you keep this to yourself?"

  Oycher replied, "I just took over as role of commander, Heath. Normally, my investigations only deal with Southwest Florida, which does not include Dade County. As Coven Master, Maestru deals with the North American continent. For the past thirty-six hours, we've pieced these murders together. I thought Ail was hotheaded, that he killed before he thought of the circumstances or the consequences. Now, I suspect what he claimed to be truth. So if you really want to help him, and I'm sure that you do, let's put aside these accusations and work on this serious problem. At the least, without us coming up with concrete proof, Ail could die in the Blood for Blood court. But what's worse, your newfound female could be taken by this psychotic vampire and held captive if he's in a gracious mood. But if he's not," he trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentenc
e before Molly.

  Heath insisted, "Before we go any further, tell me about the killing in Miami."

  "Immortal sex clubs are in all major vampiric cities. In our world, they aren't illegal so we ignore them unless something comes up, which, by the way, usually never happens…except when Molly visited Miami."

  "Molly was under Jayce Jordan's roof the entire time she visited the city, and it was a short visit at that." Heath shifted, not wanting to lay all this out in front of her. Fucking Gryph.

  Oycher checked a text and then put his phone away. "Vampires found a shape shifter half-blood drained in an alleyway." He glanced at Molly and then back to Heath. "She had long, reddish-blond hair."

  Maestru’s jaw tightened. "Right before we came here, one of our soldiers found a dead human female with the same mark on her person, though her hair was bleached – nothing similar to Molly’s color. Still, that's how we found the killer’s trail to this very condominium. Like I said, he seems to be fixated on you, Molly. After all, you’re the one he hasn’t yet killed."

  "So the man that came to me at my workplace was a cold-blooded killer," she asked, looking at Heath and ignoring the other two.

  "Indeed, my mate,” Heath said, smiling wanly. “And he has those flying Gryphs at his disposal.”

  Oycher tossed his head back, his beads rattling in his long mahogany hair. “When we prove which monarch is committing these heinous crimes, we will also prove the connection between the Gryphs from the Sanibel Causeway and Ail’s defending of Molly. From there, there's no way our court can convict him."

  "In fact," Maestru interjected, "it probably won't even go to court by then. In order for us to really get started, we need a blood sample and we need to check her for the mark."