The Wicked Vampire

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The Wicked Vampire Page 22

by Kate Baxter


  Dear gods. Siobhan had been so busy laying low, she hadn’t paid much attention to Mikhail’s pathetic fledglings. If what Christian said was correct, Saeed had possibly been tethered by a soul thief. The rarest of fae creatures and feared almost as much as berserkers by the supernatural community. Siobhan didn’t know all of the details about how McAlister’s power had been bound, but the rumor was that an enaid dwyn had enlisted the help of a mage to bind McAlister. Was Saeed’s mate that soul thief? If so, the game Siobhan had been playing had just dramatically changed.

  Gregor was no longer only a threat to vampire kind. He was a threat to supernatural kind.

  “What else did you hear?”

  Christian studied her for a quiet moment. A golden light flashed in his irises, giving her a glimpse of the animal that lived inside of him. It made him look feral and dangerous. Unpredictable. And so gods-damned sexy it heated her blood.

  “They talked about a third party.”

  Siobhan couldn’t help but wonder about Christian’s reasons for being so forthcoming with her. The suspicious, guarded part of her worried he was baiting her for someone. Either Gregor or McAlister. The part of her that couldn’t stop staring at his full lips and the square cut of his jaw hoped there was something more to it. Some measure of affection, perhaps.

  Siobhan hadn’t allowed herself to feel anything for anyone in a long damned time. So long, she couldn’t remember exactly what it felt like. Tender emotions were a weakness. She couldn’t afford to have any chinks in her armor. Especially now that Gregor’s threat had grown. It was best to consider Christian as nothing more than a strategic tool for her to use. Anything else would only help to get her killed.

  “And…?” She really needed Christian to get to the damn point.

  “Gregor called her Fiona. I think she’s related to Saeed’s mate. Sisters, maybe. From the way Gregor made it sound, Fiona and this Rin were old friends. And he seems to think McAlister is scared shitless of her.”

  Christian had gathered a cache of information but much of it was incomplete and difficult to fill in the blanks. With a little research, Siobhan was confident she could piece all of it together to see a clearer picture.

  “But Rin thinks Gregor is overconfident.”

  Siobhan let out a derisive snort. Didn’t surprise her at all. His overconfidence—his utter inability to consider failure—was what made him such a formidable foe. His faith bordered on fanatic. “I’m not surprised. Doubt won’t figure into his plans at all.”

  Christian gave a nod of agreement. “Rin says Fiona is wild and unpredictable. Without allegiance.”

  Under other circumstances, Fiona might be the sort of female Siobhan would admire. Maybe even … like. But considering her current predicament and need to stay one step ahead of Gregor, Fiona was an unknown variable that could easily turn into a threat.

  Christian downed the rest of his bourbon and set the glass down with a forlorn stare. Too damn bad. He wasn’t getting another drink. Siobhan sensed that he regularly guzzled gallons of alcohol in an effort to get himself good and drunk. Too bad his supernatural metabolism wouldn’t allow that to happen. He was damaged, self-destructive, and self-serving. Trouble. And yet, she found herself wanting to give him what he wanted. Another drink. Whatever. Anything to make him feel better no matter how temporary the fix.

  “Something went down in Seattle between Saeed and Gregor,” Christian said after a moment. “I don’t know what, but it involved his mate. Rin said he was going to kill both of them. Of course, Gregor said he didn’t care what the mage did to Saeed, but that not a hair on his mate’s head was to be touched.”

  Interesting. Of course, Gregor wouldn’t care if Rin killed the vampire, but the fact that he was willing to protect a vampire’s mate spoke volumes as to the importance of her role in Gregor’s plans. “Anything else?”

  Christian shook his head. “Gregor’s senses are keen as fuck. He got spooked and ordered a perimeter check so I got the hell out of there.”

  Damn it. It would have been nice if Christian would’ve been able to get more out of his time in Gregor’s stronghold. “So…” Siobhan hadn’t even touched her own drink. Christian’s gaze dipped briefly to the amber liquor and she let out a long-suffering sigh as she slid the glass toward him. He flashed a charming grin that turned her body traitor as heat flooded her. Sexy bastard. “What exactly do you need my opinion about?”

  Christian blew out a breath before downing the bourbon in a single swallow. “I want to know how much you think I should tell McAlister.”

  His eyes widened in response to Siobhan’s spluttering laughter. “Are you serious?” He couldn’t possibly be considering going to the director of the Sortiari with this. “None of it!”

  Disappointment settled on his expression and his brow furrowed. Obviously she hadn’t given him the answer he’d been looking for. “None of it?”

  “Are you so blindly loyal to the Sortiari that you’d turn this over to McAlister?” For some reason, Siobhan had assumed Christian was a rogue in every sense of the word. Like this Fiona, like her, without allegiance.

  “Loyalty has nothing to do with it,” Christian replied. “Information is valuable. I tend to sell mine.”

  Fool. Siobhan fought the urge to slap him across his handsome face, if anything, to knock a little sense into him. “You’re a slave to money, werewolf.” She had eyes on him all the time. Siobhan knew about his proclivity for gambling and the trouble it had gotten him into. “You need to free yourself of those shackles.”

  His answering scowl told her the subject wasn’t up for discussion. “I didn’t ask your opinion on that.”

  “I offered it free of charge.” Siobhan made sure to keep her expression serene, her tone light. Whatever emptiness Christian sought to fill, gambling and alcohol weren’t going to get it done.

  Christian reached for the empty glass and then pushed it away, disgusted. “Yeah, well, don’t do me any favors.”

  His mood had changed and it was a side of him Siobhan had never seen. Brooding. Angry. Disappointed. So unlike the charming, carefree male who loved to bait and tease her. Siobhan didn’t like this side of him one bit. It ruined her fun and made her resistant to play. “You want my opinion on the matter? Fine. I’ll give it to you. If you tell McAlister any of this, he’ll kill you before you have the chance to push yourself from your chair.”

  Siobhan had had enough of Christian and his foolhardy ways. She scooted out of the booth and stalked toward the exit, prepared to put him and this miserable night behind her. The early-winter air filled her lungs and she let out a disgusted chuff of breath. Gods, how she hated the city. Hated its pollution and heavy air and the fact that the streetlights made it impossible to see the stars …

  Strong arms spun her around. Christian put his mouth to hers in a crushing kiss that weakened her knees and quickened the blood in her veins. Forget Gregor and McAlister. Christian Whalen was bound to destroy her before any of her other enemies ever got the chance.

  CHAPTER

  24

  “I’ve been patient while you let that vampire’s cunt distract you. It’s time to prove to me that my generosity hasn’t gone to waste.”

  Ewan fought the urge to roll his eyes. Gregor could pretend to be magnanimous all fucking day but it wouldn’t change the fact he was a selfish fuck who didn’t give a damn about anyone but himself and his own agenda. Ewan was still angry as hell over his conversation with Sasha and ready to do a little damage in order to release the tension that had continued to build through the rest of that night and into the next day. If Gregor wanted to be on the receiving end of that rage, so be it.

  “Have you done anything in the past few weeks other than plant yourself balls-deep in the enemy? I’ve been lax. Let you skip rotations, let you fight in that gods-damned arena like an animal.” The whites of Gregor’s eyes were swallowed by black and a low growl resonated in his chest. “You owe me something, Ewan. And I suggest you pay up.”


  He didn’t owe Ian Gregor a gods-damned thing. Ewan stared their supposed leader down as he took a slow, deep breath. His head whipped to one side as Gregor landed a blow Ewan never saw coming. A loud pop signaled his jaw bone breaking and a flash of white hot pain shot through his face. Ewan let out a grunt as the taste of blood filled his mouth. The split in his lip healed almost instantaneously as he straightened and faced the bastard once again.

  Gregor moved with frightening speed and didn’t waste a second to remind Ewan of his prowess. He landed another blow to Ewan’s face, this time giving him a nasty orbital fracture that left his right eyeball throbbing, his face sagging, and his vision blurred before the bones could mend themselves. He could’ve taken his beating and let that be the end of it but that’s not how Ewan rolled. He went after Gregor, head bowed low, and plowed into him. Gregor dug his feet into his boots, and rather than take him to the floor, Ewan pushed Gregor a good fifteen feet before slamming him into the opposite wall. The force of the impact buried Gregor in the drywall and Ewan used the opportunity to pull back his fist and throw a nasty right hook that connected squarely with Gregor’s jaw.

  He might as well have struck a brick wall for all the damage it did. Gregor was incredibly resilient, the strongest of them all. Ewan hoped he hurt at least a little. Enough to know not to fuck with him. He wasn’t going to lie down and take it anymore. He’d had enough of the bullshit. Enough of vendettas. And enough of vengeance to last him several lifetimes. Ewan wanted out. And if the only way for that to happen was for him to die, then so be it.

  Gregor dislodged himself from the drywall and had Ewan pinned to the floor before he even realized he was no longer standing. The air left his lungs in a violent rush and Ewan fought to replace the depleted oxygen. His straining, rasping inhales were ineffective, and Gregor’s fist that was wrapped around his throat did little to help.

  “You insolent piece of trash,” Gregor spat. “You think you can look at me with open defiance and think I’ll just let it slide?” Black swallowed the whites of his eyes, and his native accent grew thicker with his anger. “I’ve had shits that gave me more trouble than you so don’t think for a second you’ve got one over on me. If you wanted to degrade yourself by dipping into the vampire’s tainted pussy, that’s your business. When your brothers find out what you’ve done, a beating is going to be the least of your problems.” Gregor leaned in close enough that is hot, rancid breath brushed Ewan’s face. “Qui cum canibus concumbunt cum pulicibus surgent.” If you lie down with dogs, you wake up with fleas. Asshole. Gregor released his hold on Ewan’s throat and in one fluid motion, jerked him up from the floor to stand. “You have five seconds to tell me something I want to hear before I tell your secrets to every warlord within earshot.”

  Gods, but Gregor was a sorry motherfucker. Ewan could finally take a deep breath and filled his lungs with some much needed oxygen. His many broken bones and contusions healed and he was back at one hundred percent. Gregor he could deal with. An angry mob of his brethren hell-bent on punishing him for betrayal? Not so much. Those blindly loyal to Gregor wouldn’t hesitate to rip Ewan limb from limb. And when there was nothing left of him to dismember, they’d rip his head right off his shoulders. He had to play ball. He had no other choice. He wasn’t afraid to fight or to die. But Drew would never let him go down alone, and he refused to put his cousin in harm’s way.

  “Sasha’s maker, Saeed, has a mate.” Ewan had no idea if this information would be valuable to Gregor but it was worth a shot. “Fae. Unlike anyone I’ve ever seen. She’s powerful, I could feel it.”

  Gregor broke out into almost maniacal laughter and Ewan wondered if the male had finally lost his mind. “This female who thinks you are her mate, she’s part of Saeed’s coven?”

  Ewan’s brow furrowed. How did Gregor know about Saeed? “Aye. There are three vampires that I know of, including Sasha. The rest are dhampirs.”

  Gregor continued to laugh. “You’re utterly fucking useless!” The laughter died to eerie silence and Gregor’s lip pulled back in a menacing sneer. His eyes remained black. Onyx orbs that reflected the evil of his soul. “You would have to pick a female from the one coven I want to remain intact, wouldn’t you?”

  Ewan hid his surprise beneath a mask of passivity. Not since their feud with the vampires began had Gregor ever offered a single coven respite or clemency. Saeed obviously had something to contribute to Gregor’s endgame. Either that, or someone close to him did. The fae, perhaps? She seemed the obvious choice.

  “I know where the coven is located.” It was a huge gamble to offer up that kind of information, especially when Ewan had never had any intention of sharing it. But Gregor’s reaction would prove whether or not he truly wanted hands off Saeed and those under his care.

  The inky black faded from Gregor’s gaze. He raked Ewan from head to toe and his cold disdain would have coaxed goose bumps to the skin of a lesser male. Ewan’s desire to protect his cousin from Gregor’s misaligned sense of brotherhood had backfired in a big way. He had nothing to offer Gregor. Nothing. And Ewan had a feeling he was about to be punished for it.

  “That female you’re fucking has nothing to offer me in regards to her coven. Stop digging there. I want to know about the others. Where their covens are located. Their numbers. How many vampires fill their ranks. I want to know about Mikhail Aristov, his bitch of a mate, and the human child that lives with him. Anything else is useless and will only earn you a severe beating. Do you understand me?”

  He’d have a snowball’s chance in hell of getting Sasha to open up to him about any of that. Especially after their latest fight. “I understand.” Ewan spat to his side to clear his mouth of the blood that remained from his beating. His eyes met Gregor’s and he didn’t even flinch. He refused to cow in the warlord’s presence.

  “Get the fuck out of my sight.”

  And with those last seven disgusted words, Ewan was effectively dismissed. He didn’t bother contemplating who’d heard their little exchange and subsequent brawl. No one would dare bring it up. Gregor’s rule was absolute. No one questioned him. Challenged him. Or otherwise spoke to him unless first spoken to. Likewise, anyone who dared to repeat a conversation had by Gregor with any of them could expect the sort of retribution Ewan had just been on the receiving end of.

  He could think of a million better ways to spend an evening other than on the receiving end of Ian Gregor’s fists.

  Ewan passed Drew in the hallway on the way to his apartment. Their eyes met and his cousin changed course and fell into step beside him. Not a word was spoken between them until they reached Ewan’s apartment and went inside. And even then, they were careful not to say too much.

  “Jesus, you look like shit.” Ewan was so glad Drew was adept at stating the obvious. “Is that your blood all over your fucking clothes?”

  Ewan turned to his cousin and cocked a brow. He wasn’t going to discuss what had just happened with Gregor. Not with him, or anyone else.

  Drew cleared his throat and settled down onto a ratty old couch they’d picked up from the side of the road that had a Free cardboard sign tied to it. “Haven’t seen you around much.” He kept his tone conversational and light, but his pinched expression and drawn brows told another story. He was worried, and rightly so. And maybe even a little pissed off. Again, rightly so. But there was nothing Ewan was willing to do about it right now.

  “I’ve had a lot of shit to do.” Drew had to have known that Gregor had his tighty-whities in a bunch. “Gregor’s had me busy running errands and doing recon.”

  “Yeah, there’s been a lot of shit going on. Everybody’s busy. Want to go get a drink?”

  “Yeah.” If Ewan was going to protect Drew, he was going to have to bump up their timetable. And that meant doing something incredibly unpleasant. “Let’s go somewhere quiet and have a drink.” Gods help him, Ewan was about to get involved with a nest of fucking demons.

  * * *

  “Sasha. This is a
surprise. Come in.”

  Sasha stepped past the threshold of the enormous mansion that housed the Forkbeard werewolf pack and Chelle Daly’s tiny coven of two. Though he seemed surprised to see her, Lucas greeted her with a bright smile and his scent remained clean. It was nice to know she was welcome here since right now, she had nowhere else to go. After Ewan stomped out of her apartment yet again, she couldn’t bear to sit there in the still silence, alone. Too much weighed on her mind and without a solution in sight to the worries that plagued her, she decided to grab an Uber and hightail it to the only place she could think to go.

  “Sorry to come over without calling first.” She was actually surprised Saeed hadn’t canceled her cell by now. It wouldn’t be long before her credit cards were declined as well. Her dependence on him—and the coven—only helped to show her that the independence she thought she’d gained was nothing more than an illusion. “I need someone to talk to. Do you maybe want to grab a bite to eat or get a cup of coffee?” Might as well do it now while she still had Visa’s permission.

  “Coffee?” Lucas’s good-natured laughter coaxed a wry smile to Sasha’s lips. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have a vodka soda at a club somewhere? I know it’s not L.A., but Pasadena has some fun places to hang out at.”

  Sasha cringed. Gods, she’d been so out of control the past several months. Drinking. Partying. Fucking anything that walked by her. No wonder Lucas thought she’d prefer a crowded club to a quiet coffee shop. She looked around the expansive foyer at the nouveau rustic, yet stylish furniture. Sturdy. Tasteful yet lavish. Supernatural creatures certainly knew how to amass—and spend—their wealth. Which made her wonder about her own financial status. She was hardly an indentured servant. She had her own accounts, money that Saeed as coven master, filtered to her. But leaving the coven was sort of like quitting her job. She wouldn’t know comfort like this again. She’d relegated herself to a crappy, nearly unfurnished apartment in the Valley.

 

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