Mystic Realms: A Limited Edition Collection

by Nicole Morgan

“You need me.”

  “You can’t help, he-man.” Harley yawned and his eyes fluttered. He forced them open suddenly, but they dropped closed again as Matt’s soothing warmth continued to soak into him. “I need a miracle, not a werewolf.” It was a slurred, mumbled protest.

  “How much time have we got?”

  “One night, maybe two.” Harley stirred and pushed feebly at Matt’s hands, eyelids still closed. “Now let me go. Gotta leave soon.” His head dropped low then, wobbly, bobbed back up with an indignant outburst. “And we don’t have any time. I travel alone remember?”

  “Not any more, Harley. Unlike vampires, wolves protect their own.”

  The whispered words tickled his ear and sent a shiver down his spine, promise and threat rolled into one.

  “I’m not yours.” Harley fought a yawn and lost.

  “So you keep saying.”

  A light kiss landed on his lips, then Matt’s tongue parted Harley’s lips and teased over his sensitive fangs almost making them drop again. Harley suppressed a moan and clamped his mouth shut. He’d have bitten the irritating werewolf if he didn’t know the taste of lycan’s blood would raise his libido again. His cock would willingly stay up, but he couldn’t.

  “Fuck you.”

  The snort of laughter tickled just as much as the breathy whisper had.

  “We’ll see. Maybe.”

  Soothing one last lick and kiss over the healing bullet wound scar, Matt moved up to peck little kisses over Harley’s pale face. He petted the disarrayed, shaggy hair back from Harley’s forehead and stroked a hand through the strands, tenderly ghosting his fingers over the bullet wound.

  For once, Harley didn’t even jerk away or protest. He’d never admit it out loud, but it felt kind of good.

  Shifting his weight to one side, Matt pulled an unresisting and heavy- limbed Harley on top of him and settled the smaller body into the crook of his side. Harley automatically held on.

  Arms entwined, Matt snagged a blanket and pulled it up to cover Harley’s chilled body. Running a hand through Harley’s hair, Matt nudged Harley’s head until it was nestled comfortably on his chest and waited.

  “Fucking furball.” Exasperated, Harley patted down the section of Matt’s thick, dark chest hair to keep it from tickling his nose, then drew another breath to protest the entire move, but faded off to sleep before it escaped his lips.

  His dreams were about midnight runs and moonlight seductions, full of sex and complex emotions he’d rather not explore. The amazing part wasn’t so much the feelings the dreams evoked in Harley as it was the fact that he was having them at all. His last dream had been when he was twenty-three and still human, thirty years ago. Back then he had wanted mundane things like a nice apartment, an ordinary job and a lover to share it all with who wouldn’t care he had been a hustler before meeting him. All those dreams died when he had, and life as a vampire hadn’t afforded him any new ones.

  Although these dreams didn’t include ordinary events like his old ones, the feelings of contentment, of being needed and loved, were much the same. Though he couldn’t visualize anyone else in the dream with him, every one of his senses told him the underlying reason for the happiness was the man he’d just had sex with— made love with, if he was being honest. Matt’s scent and presence was the one prevailing factor throughout the dreams. The realization irritated him to no end and thrilled him unlike anything had in decades.

  Contentment was a loser’s game he couldn’t afford to let himself be lulled into. Subconsciously aware of the danger of attachments in his troubled, waning existence, Harley fought happiness at every turn, even in this rediscovered dream. The ground he was peacefully lying on shook and the cloak of comfort and dream-fueled bliss shattered around him. Harsh reality invaded his death sleep and yanked him awake prematurely.

  Still groggy from both his sexual and physical appetites being sated for the first time in way too long, Harley jerked awake to a thunderous growl of a wild animal. Jackknifing to an upright position, he found himself alone, naked, tangled in the sheets of Matt’s bed.

  By the footboard stood a dark haired, massive, muscle-bound werewolf. It growled deep in its throat, the sound so raw, powerful and vicious it made the hair on Harley’s arms and neck stand on end. He knew instinctively this was Matt in his other form, but all the same, he was relieved to see the lycan’s attention was riveted on the overhead skylight and not him.

  “Matt?”

  Nothing but a low growl answered him, but Harley knew it was meant as a warning to be silent. Managing to untangle himself enough to rise to his knees, he watched as Matt swiftly stooped and whisked the round braided rug from the floor, to reveal a blue circle of symbols that matched the ones around the skylight directly about them. The rug flew across the room to land in a heap under a window. As it smacked the wall and slid to the floor, Harley noticed symbols painted on the windowsill, yellow like the ones by the front door.

  He tried to untangle his legs from the sheets, but failed before the skylight burst inward, blanketing the room with a thousand shards of tinted glass. The room seemed to explode with noise, shattered wood and rumbled growls as two indistinct, but familiar dark-clothed bodies hurtled down through the narrow opening, one after the other.

  In battle stance, crossbows in hand and ready, the two snarling Eliminators landed gracefully on their feet. Ignoring everything else, it took them less than a millisecond to zero in on Harley where he knelt, trapped in the sheets, on the end of Matt’s bed. Both fired their weapons at the same time. Oblivious, Harley tried to blink away the sleep and watch the action in the room.

  Shifted into full lycan form, Matt was a fearsome sight. Easily a foot taller than when in his human shape, he became broader, thicker and decidedly more intimidating in looks alone. Add in the vicious, rumbling growl that shook the house rafters, to the wicked slash of his extended, massive claws and five-inch canines, he put the Eliminators’ merely over-sized human fangs and ordinary builds to shame. Even their vampire strength and lightning reflexes couldn’t save them.

  As the vampires took aim, Matt lunged forward, knocking one crossbow down with his foot while he tore the other from the nearest vampire’s grip with his hands. He took the vampire’s arm as well, amputating it from the tall, angular one’s shoulder with the force of the impact. He used the momentary surprise to tear out the vamp’s throat, then snapped his spine at the neck, severing the head from body. In one smooth move, he threw the head onto the discarded rug under the window, then hefted the body and tossed it after its owner. It only took a second for the body parts to disintegrate into ash and scatter on the floor like so much dust.

  Harley watched in amazement, the whole scene occurring faster than his sleep-addled brain could comprehend it. A sudden burning in his side drew his bleary gaze downward and he noticed for the first time there was an arrow lodged under his left rib cage. The shaft was made of white ash and it literally burned his flesh.

  Hissing as a tendril of smoke rose from the fresh wound, Harley managed to snap one end off the arrow. A swift yank and he’d tugged the shaft out of his side, surprised at how little it actually hurt. He was shocked when it began to heal, slower than it should have for a vampire, but much faster than he had been healing.

  He jerked wider awake, his gaze jumping back to the center of the room where Matt stood looming over the remaining vampire. This was the one that had stood at the cafe door and waited for Harley to come to him. Obviously of a more patient disposition than his partner had been, he again stood and just waited, empty crossbow pointed at the floor.

  “You’re healing again.” More observant and calmer than expected with an enraged lycan sniffing his throat, the remaining vampire nodded at Harley’s side. “How?” His narrowed gaze swung between Matt and Harley, than landed on Matt. “You? You did this?”

  “Lycan protect their own.”

  “He’s Vampyre not Lycan!” The Eliminator spit on the floor and snarled, “We take ca
re of our own.”

  Matt bared his teeth. “We don’t destroy our injured.” He stepped closer to the edge of the circle and growled, deep in his throat. The glass in one window rattled. “We care for them until they are strong again, as he will be soon enough. Remember that, assassin.”

  “He’s still not a Lycan.” It came out between gritted teeth, fangs extended and glistening in the moonlight shining in from the hole in the ceiling. “He’s nothing but a little blood-sucking whore moving from one bed to the next.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Matt cocked his head so he could see Harley, giving the kneeling vampire a slow, appreciative head-to-toe glance. Then he locked stares with the assassin again and firmly stated, “He lays in a Lycan bed now.”

  The vampire sniffed the air, then shot a murderous look at Harley, his voice outraged and disbelieving. “You joined with a Lycan? Are you out of your mind?”

  Wanting to deny it for appearances sake in front of Matt, but knowing it was the truth, Harley clamped his mouth shut and kept it that way. He was still having trouble shaking off the last of his death sleep to be all that coherent anyway. At least he could blame it on that.

  In the answering silence, the vampire’s startled gaze continued to whip from Matt to Harley and back again. “You took a vampire as a mate? He’s an abomination! Diseased. Defective.”

  Matt shook his head. “He will heal in time.”

  “For all the good it will do him.” The vampire snorted and fingered the useless weapon in his hands. “There is a death mark on him now.”

  “Then see that it’s removed.” The werewolf gave a pointed glance at the dust on the floor that was all that remained of the other Eliminator. “Or those that try to collect on it again will meet the same end as your companion did.”

  To Harley, Matt seemed to grow larger and more ferocious with every growled and snarled sentence. “My pack mates will rise up to meet the challenge if my mate continues to be hunted. Go back and tell your kind that.”

  He snapped at the vampire again, ripping a small wound in the assassin’s his right cheek. The vampire flinched but didn’t pull away. Matt tasted the blood, licking his lips as it dripped from his snout. “And if you return, I won’t be this generous a second time.” He snapped at the air in front of the vampire.

  This time the Eliminator jerked his head back a scant inch in anticipation of a bite that didn’t come. He snarled and yanked the empty crossbow up, the frustrated expression on his face revealing how much he wished it had another arrow in it. Even so, he remained as if rooted to the spot, nothing to do, but unable to leave.

  Something about the vampire’s rigid stance told Harley the vampire wasn’t remaining still by choice. He watched Matt circle the ring of blue symbols, snarling and occasionally snapping at the unmoving vampire, taunting him like a wolf circled and harassed its prey before the kill.

  Harley wasn’t sure how, but in a shimmering instance Matt changed from werewolf to man. Human, naked and weaponless, he was still almost as large and intimidating as he had been as Lycan. He swept an arm outward and commanded, “Leave. While you still can.”

  The Eliminator looked up at the opening he had jumped through fifteen feet above him. He flicked a disgruntled glance at Harley then gave Matt a steely glare. “You’ll heal him?”

  Completely unaffected by his naked state, Matt moved to stand by the end of the bed, in front of Harley, blocking him from the other’s hard stare. “He’s already better. You saw that for yourself. He’ll be strong again.”

  “But not completely normal.” It wasn’t a question.

  “He’s a vampire. What’s normal about that to begin with?”

  The Eliminator’s glare hardened, but he remained silent. Springing to the balls of his feet, he jumped though the broken skylight and disappeared as suddenly as he had arrived.

  Matt moved to a wall switch and hit a button. The buzz of a motor faintly filled the sudden stillness as a metal cover slid over the skylight blocking out the moon and stars. Once it was sealed he moved to the edge of the bed and pulled Harley to him, tangled sheets and all.

  Surprising himself by melting into Matt’s embrace, Harley grabbed hold of the man’s thick biceps and tilted his head back to look him in the eye. “Why didn’t he fight back?”

  “He couldn’t.” He jerked his head toward the matching circles of blue paintings on the floor and ceiling. “The magic of the ring kept him contained.”

  “Magic?” The insistent, warm arms encircling him tightened. Harley felt a rush of desire shiver through him, stiffening his already hard cock. Danger tended to do that to him. The fact that Matt had been sporting a hard on during most of the action hadn’t escaped his notice either. Now he had time to appreciate it and pay attention to it. He slipped a thigh between Matt’s knees and wriggled his hips just a little. Matt’s sharp look and hungry stare was enough to encourage him.

  “Lycan and Vampyre societies have been at odds for centuries. You know that.” Matt kissed the tip of Harley’s nose, one hand slipping down to knead Harley’s ass. “It’s an ancient spell. It protects those within its boundaries from vampires. They can’t cross it.”

  “Bullshit. I crossed it.” He grunted as Matt lifted him off the bed and moved him backward, crawling onto the bed.

  “You belong here.” Carrying Harley, Matt walked on his knees to the center of the nest of blankets.

  “So you keep saying.”

  “You will, too, soon enough.” Matt swooped down and claimed Harley’s lips, ravaging his mouth, battling his tongue and sending another electric shock of want and desire through the vampire’s core.

  By the time Matt released him, Harley swore even his dead soul took notice of the fiery passion that kiss ignited. It was as exciting as it was unnatural for the vampire. “So, is magic how you plan on keeping me here?”

  Pushing Harley backward, Matt flopped them both down on the bed. “Only if you consider love, loyalty and desire for my mate to be magic.”

  His hand found Harley’s cock and began to examine it in great, loving detail. He gripped both their cocks together in one hand began to pump them in a slow, seductive rhythm as he licked and kissed a random pattern over Harley’s neck and chest.

  His touch renewed Harley’s interest in foreplay until panic and reason asserted themselves. “Stop that.” He tried to nudge Matt’s head up with his chin. “I’m not your mate.” His hips rose up to meet Matt’s on their own despite his strained words. “Are you crazy?” He panted through a sudden rush of desire that surged up his cock and buried itself in his belly, shaft harder and more eager in no time, teased to complete fullness by Matt’s hard cock and knowing grip. “Vampire here, remember, asshole?” Harley snapped at Matt’s chin, missing when Matt arched out of his reach. The movement pulled Matt’s head back and shoved his groin down harder onto Harley’s. Harley gave a groan of pleasure.

  Chuckling, Matt dove down and quickly claimed Harley’s mouth in a fast, hard kiss again, then pulled back far enough to stare into Harley’s eyes. His gaze flickered down to the fangs and back to recapture Harley’s softening glare. “Kind of hard to forget right now.” He winked and smiled. “But it doesn’t change anything. You’re mine. Named, mated, fought for, won and claimed already.”

  “So what’s that?” He gave an indelicate snort. “The werewolf version of ‘signed, sealed and delivered’? I get a leash and collar to go with it?”

  “Something like that.” Laughing out loud this time, Matt eased both of their arms up the bed until Harley’s wrists were pinned down by his neck. Matt released his hold then slid his fingers up to lace with Harley’s unresisting ones. When he met no complaints, he locked their hands together. “After all, you were sent to me. To keep safe.”

  “What? Who? No one sent me anywhere.” The disbelief dripped off his words. Harley snorted and lowered his gaze. The seductive thrusts against his groin stopped and the sudden loss of intimacy made him feel empty. “No one cares enough to sen
d me anywhere ‘safe’.”

  “My uncle and my mom cared.” Matt’s free hand gently forced Harley’s chin up until they could see eye to eye. “They sent you here.”

  “Bullshit.” Harley tried to pull away but Matt refused to let go. Harley had to blink to clear the sudden blurring in his vision. “You’re nuts.” He wanted to believe Matt, but it didn’t make sense. “I don’t know any werewolves!” A small, self-depreciating chuckle escaped him as he added, “And I sure don’t know your mom.”

  “Sure you do.” Matt’s smiled widened. He sniffed Harley’s cheek. “She touched your cheek,” he nuzzled Harley’s face, then planted his nose on Harley’s nearby left hand, “and your hand. I smelled her on you right off. Why do you think I came over and talked to you in the bar?” He sniffed at Harley’s right hand. “Uncle Abe shook your hand, too.”

  Slack jawed, Harley found himself almost speechless. “That PIA trucker is your uncle? I rode all the way here with a werewolf and didn’t know it?” Disconcerted, a deep frown marred his face. “Christ, I am fucked up.”

  “Yep.” Matt bussed a quick kiss on the frown and rolled a little to one side to get a better grip on their cocks. His hand never faltered in the smooth, slip- sliding rhythm that had Harley arching up into his hold. “And he delivered you, all wrapped up in a yellow ribbon.”

  The satin feel of flesh on flesh pushed his lusts higher. The rush of pleasure was so intense he almost missed the rest of what Matt was saying. “What? What ribbon?” He blinked and remembered the only thing he had worn that was yellow. “That old coat that lady at the cafe gave me?”

  Matt smirked. “My old parka my mom gave you.”

  “Christ!”

  “No, werewolf.”

  “Asshole.” Harley search for a more derogatory term but all he could work up any feeling for was a lame taunt. He found his heart wasn’t willing to help him abuse his new lover. “Beast.”

  “Corpse.”

  Eyes narrowed, Harley arched into Matt’s fist as the man purposely sped up his strokes, making it nearly impossible for Harley to talk without moaning. “Carnivore.”