by BJ Wane
Releasing her right buttock, Jacob slapped Mandy’s cheek hard before rubbing the warm, reddened area, her shriek and the way she ground down against his marauding mouth and coated his invading tongue with her slick juices told him how much she liked that small erotic pain. Whatever Mandy did just then to Daisy had her pussy creaming his cock, easing her way as she rode him with torturously slow movements. Before his impending release could take all his concentration, he delved deeply into Mandy’s pussy, using his tongue, teeth and lips on her clit until her orgasm gushed into his mouth, her gyrating hips and soft cries increasing when he slipped one finger between her buttocks to finger her anus, that tight, dark channel contracting around his finger like the walls of her vagina were clutching his tongue.
“That was so good, baby,” Mandy crooned when she climbed off him and bent down to lick her juices off his lips and chin.
Jacob grabbed her face and took her mouth in a deep, carnal kiss, his tongue exploring her mouth as thoroughly as he had her pussy. A tug on his nipple rings drew a sharp breath and his cock surged inside Daisy’s pussy with a spurt of pre-come. Those small tugs sent a nip of both pain and pleasure from his nipples straight down to his cock and had his balls drawing up tightly. He watched with heavy lidded eyes as Mandy turned to Daisy and took her mouth much the same way she had Jacob’s, with open mouthed, tongue exploring eroticism. When she reached down to where Daisy’s bare folds were spread around his cock and rooted out her clit, Jacob angled his upward thrusts to rub against that small, engorged piece of flesh with as much friction as possible.
Daisy broke away from Mandy’s mouth, threw her head back and cried out in pleasure as she came all over his cock with hard contractions of her wet, silken walls. Jacob reached up, laid his palm against Daisy’s forehead to shield her mind as he drew Mandy back down to him and sank his fangs into her neck, drawing on her warm, spicy blood as his cock erupted in climax, the dual pleasures swamping his senses. He made sure Mandy knew nothing but pleasure from his bite, remembered nothing but another powerful orgasm.
Ten minutes later, Jacob stepped out of their apartment, leaving both women sleeping entwined in sated exhaustion. He took a deep breath of the humid night air, his body humming with renewed energy and power, yet he was anything but sated. His encounters with women filled a void as well as provided the substance he needed to keep his physical capabilities elevated, but they always left him feeling more alone than ever. He had nothing in common with either Mandy or Daisy, knew nothing about either one, not even their full names, even though he has been fucking them regularly for over eight months. When the need arose, he showed up at their apartment and, if they were home and didn’t have other plans, he stayed for a few hours of what they laughingly dubbed a booty call. They never asked what he did when he wasn’t with them, and he, frankly, didn’t care what, or who they did when he wasn’t around. Maybe it was that lack of intimacy that always left him feeling low when he should have been hyped up on the renewed strength and energy pouring through his system.
Deciding a walk would clear his head; he left his Harley in the apartment complex’s parking lot and headed out on foot toward the French Quarter. Jacob nostalgically recalled walking the streets of New Orleans with his fiancée, Elizabeth. Though he had been born, raised and died in Avoyelles Parish, he had made the trip to the Crescent City before becoming engaged to get supplies for his family’s farm, taking advantage of being away from the prying eyes of his parents to visit the brothels. After falling in love the allure of those decadent establishments had lost their appeal, so much so that even now, a hundred and fifty years later, he was unfazed by the annual transformation during Mardi Gras of the downtown into an adult playground that most visitors can’t resist.
Not that he didn’t enjoy sex, he mused as he recalled the past few hours, but none of his sexual indulgences in all these years had excited him or left him as satisfied as much as those few, stolen trysts with Elizabeth. Twelve years younger than him, she had been so sweet and innocent, lacking all the experience and wiles of the courtesans he had spent his youth fucking, yet her shy responses and fumbling attempts to please him had turned him on more than the practiced mouths and hands of whores.
Jacob could now barely recall Elizabeth’s face, couldn’t remember what her voice sounded like or how her body felt under his. He knew he didn’t still grieve for her, yet he still mourned the loss of what he could have had, what he still wanted now, that special someone he could call his own. That was what pissed him off so much about Damien’s refusal to claim Abrielle. He had what Jacob wanted, would give anything for, yet continually refused to take what was being so freely offered. Abby had been living at the plantation for over a week now and her frustration and despair over her and Damien’s unresolved relationship was plain to see. Whatever Damien was doing with her, it wasn’t enough to satisfy either one of them and by Damien’s drawn, weakened look, he couldn’t hold back much longer without seeking relief elsewhere.
Jacob knew Marie’s death had hit Damien hard and had all of them edgy about the sudden reappearance of rogue vampires. But if they were going to have more battles ahead, they all needed to be at their full potential and he worried Damien’s stubbornness, for whatever reason, would cause more heartache than he was trying to prevent.
He owed Damien a lot, the least of which was his unfailing loyalty. Jacob had taken a fatal bayonet wound at the Battle of Yellow Bayou in May of 1864 and despite being proud to have taken part in a Union victory against the Confederates, he hadn’t been ready, or willing, to die. He didn’t remember Isabelle appearing right before he took his last breath, had no recollection of telling her he didn’t want to die and certainly would never have agreed to cheat death in order to live as one of the walking dead, but apparently that was exactly what he did. He did remember rousing to a voracious hunger, to the metallic, yet sweetly addictive taste of warm blood flowing smoothly down his parched throat, of his mouth suckling at a soft, vulnerable neck, a cascade of midnight silk hair cocooning him from the horrors of the battlefield and the stench of death all around him. When Isabelle had pulled away from him, he found himself drowning in the black, bottomless depths of her eyes and his uncharacteristic, uncontrollable need to fuck her.
He shuddered now, thinking how close he had come to being drawn further into her web of deceit, into believing the pretty lies she was spewing as she tried to coax him into fucking her right there among the fallen dead of his comrades and friends. If Damien hadn’t appeared like an avenging angel when he did, he knew he would be suffering whatever fate had befallen Damien when Isabelle had turned him and there hadn’t been anyone to save him from her. One minute there wasn’t a thought of his beloved Elizabeth in his head as he was staring up and lusting after the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and the next Damien appeared behind her, grabbed her by her long hair and sent her flying several feet as if she weighed no more than an ounce. Damien had reached for him and then everything went black. The next time he came to, he was at Damien’s plantation home, a home Damien had opened up to others he had saved from Isabelle’s clutches and one Jacob had clung to as he struggled with what had become of the life he once knew.
Yes, he thought as he opened his mind to seek out his other brethren, he owed Damien a lot, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel like kicking his ass for turning away from everything Jacob would give his right arm for.
Where are you? Damien demanded as soon as Jacob opened his mind to communicate.
Frowning at the angry frustration in his tone, Jacob answered, Heading downtown. What’s up?
Come to Abby’s.
There was no disguising the worry Damien was projecting and, responding to the urgency he also heard, Jacob quickly slipped into a darkened doorway before disappearing, reappearing moments later inside Abby’s bookstore. “What the hell happened?” he asked Damien and Luc as he took in the destructive vandalism that was sure to break Abby’s heart.
Damien looke
d up as he righted a chair, his anger at the damage done to Abby’s store as well as the loft upstairs tempered only by his fear of what could have happened to her had she been here. “I would say it was a break-in, but given what happened last week I’m not so sure it’s that simple.” There was the distinct possibility that the rogue who got away at Marie’s last week had returned with help to seek out the potential mate who had escaped them. Abby. His mate. And if they were starting to target mates specifically, they were all going to have to take extra precautions.
“You think Isabelle, or whoever we’re dealing with, sent more rogues after her?” Jacob moved to the shelves and started picking up the books strewn on the floor in front of them.
“It has to be considered just as Damien has to at least consider claiming Abby if, for no other reason than to get up to his full strength.” Luc glared at his friend and leader, unperturbed by Damien’s glower. “You know I’m right.”
“Shit, Damien, Luc’s right. If we are dealing with that psychotic bitch again, or someone of equal power, you won’t be any help in keeping Abby or anyone else safe if you’re too weak to fight.”
Knowing they were right didn’t make the decision any easier. He would be putting Abby at risk either from him or from whoever was now targeting her. “Let’s do what we can here then I’m going to pay a visit to Mason.”
“He was a no show again tonight?” Jacob asked.
“Yes, and I’ve had it with him. He either comes clean and joins us again or he’s on his own.”
Damien noticed the way both Jacob and Luc winced. Having the support and companionship of their tight group as well as their mates was what kept them going night after night, kept them from abusing their powers and gifts that could do just as much damage as good. Even though they were all decent men in their prior lives, he knew how easy it could be to cross lines they never would have considered crossing before.
“Let’s see what he has to say before we go that far,” Jacob said, worry for Mason now as prevalent as his worry for Abby was.
The three of them did everything they could to set Abby’s store and apartment back to rights, making note that expensive items such as her television, computer and the cash in her register hadn’t been taken, ruling out robbery. Abby didn’t need the attention calling this in to the police would get her and definitely didn’t need anything that might connect her to Marie. Damien had no way of knowing if the cops took down license plates of the cars parked along Marie’s street in order to check for witnesses, but no one had approached Abby in the past week and he wanted to keep it that way.
“Are we going to just pop in on him?” Jacob asked when they finished. “What if he’s with someone?”
“It’s not like we haven’t seen him fucking before,” Luc returned dryly, his light brown eyes reflecting amusement.
“It’d serve him right for not showing up again, especially after promising me last week he’d start pulling his weight. Let’s go.”
There was no arguing with Damien once he set his mind to something and this recent threat aimed at Abby had him determined to pull in all of their resources. Jacob had two clues that something was amiss the moment they materialized in Mason’s living room. The first was the sight of Mason slouched on his sofa, a half empty bottle of whiskey dangling from his hand. Their altered systems could tolerate liquor, as well as food, in small doses, but from the smell and look of Mason, he had already lost most of what he had ingested.
His second clue was the sudden throb of heat in his palm, a warm pulse that had his cock stirring despite the hours he had spent earlier fucking Mandy and Daisy. Opening his hand, he looked at the red, crescent shaped mark on his right palm, the same birthmark all of the brethren shared. Snippets of remarks made by those who had found their mates reverberated in his head, all those times he had listened enviously to his friend’s describing how the erotic pulse of their palms was the first indication they had that the woman they were either with or near was their mate. Closing his hand in an attempt to contain the promise of that unaccustomed response, he glared at Mason when he looked at them with bleary confusion.
“What have you done?” he rasped.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Mason struggled to rise, glaring at the three of them while trying to remember if he had locked his bedroom door. Damn it, why didn’t he meet up with Damien like he promised? He had known Damien would come looking for him if he didn’t start joining them again on patrol, but instead of playing it safe, he had spent another night wallowing in self-pity as he struggled with his conscience.
“Jacob? What gives?” Luc asked as he watched Jacob’s face pale then redden with anger, his green eyes taking on a reddish glow.
Jacob ignored them as he looked around the small living room then strode into the kitchen before coming right back out and heading down the small hallway towards the closed door at the end, the erotic, rapid pulse in his palm increasing with each step, desperation, anger and fear all battling for supremacy as he reached for the knob.
“God damn it!” Mason roared as he attempted to follow him only to be brought up short by Luc and Damien barring his way. “Get out of my way. Better yet, get out of my house.”
“Not until you tell us what’s going on,” Damien stated implacably, his gaze going from Mason’s desperate look to Jacob’s determined stride down the hall. “What’re you trying to hide, Mason?”
Mason cringed at the soft menace in Damien’s voice. Their leader was an easy going man, unfailingly supportive and protective of those he cared about, but he could also be coldly ruthless and dangerous if crossed or if an innocent has been harmed and Mason had committed both of those sins. His eyes darted nervously down the hall as he heard the door open followed by Jacob’s curses then his bellow of rage.
“I’m sorry. Fuck, I didn’t intend to take it this far, keep her this long. I just needed someone…”
“Aw, hell.” Damien and Luc both sped down the hall as Jacob’s roar of undisguised anguish and fury reverberated throughout the small house.
Jacob knew that the scared, naked woman bound to Mason’s bed was his mate just as he knew he was going to kill his brethren for the abuse he had obviously heaped upon her. Cringing against the headboard, large blue eyes wide and stricken with fear, shoulder length blonde hair disheveled around a pretty, round face weren’t the only telltale signs that she wasn’t tied with her arms above her willingly. Her soft, lush breasts sported small bruises as did her round thighs and he had to swallow against the bile threatening to come up as he pictured more bruises being hidden between her tightly clamped legs. But the thing that had his rage erupting into scalding fury was the sight of two small puncture wounds on her neck, right next to a mauve, crescent shaped mark that was physical proof she was destined to become a mate to one of the brethren. Mason had to have known within moments of being near this woman that she was not meant for him, just as Jacob knew by the voracious lust engulfing him, surprising him with its intensity and need the minute he came into close proximity of her, that she was meant for him and him alone.
“Jesus,” Luc breathed in surprised anger when he and Damien entered the room behind Jacob. “Who the hell is she?”
“My mate.” A sudden thin chill hung on the edge of Jacob’s words as he turned from the shocked, terror filled look on his mate’s face to glare menacingly at Mason who now stood behind Luc and Damien in the doorway. His need for retribution blinded him to everything else, including the stricken guilt etched on Mason’s face.
“Mason, why?” Damien’s voice shook with anger as well as despair at the actions of one of his own.
“Why?” Mason snarled at the condemnation on his friend’s faces even as he suffered more remorse now that he knew whose mate she was. “You have no idea what it’s like losing your wife, your kids, watching them from afar as they struggle with your sudden, unexplainable disappearance, watch as their love slowly turns to hate because they think you’ve abandoned them.” Ch
oking on his grief as well as his inexcusable actions, he whispered despairingly, “My wife, my children, they were everything to me, and I had to watch them grow old and die hating me.”
Mason knew his inability to cope with the losses his transformation had wrought didn’t excuse his actions, knew that the desperation that had sent him seeking to replace his wife, ease his despair and loneliness with another was wrong as well as futile, but when he had spotted Grace Larsen exiting the city library two weeks ago, saw the mark on the side of her neck that meant she was compatible with his kind, he hadn’t thought, he had simply reacted.
“Hell, man, we’ve all outlived loved ones. That doesn’t condone kidnapping and God knows what else you’ve subjected this woman to.” Luc and Jon were the most easy going of them, reliable when needed, ready to play and enjoy life to its fullest when not. But the disdain in Luc’s voice and the look of pure rage and contempt on his face was anything but congenial.
“You’ve broken our vows to each other, Mason, our promise to continue our existence without harm to innocent humans.” Damien was so mad at yet another innocent woman coming to harm, it was all he could do to keep from plunging his knife into Mason’s chest. If he felt that strongly about retribution, he could only imagine how Jacob felt.