by BJ Wane
Mason took a step back from the brutal condemnation etched on their faces and the air of menace now permeating the small room. The girl, Grace, was biting her lip in fear as she struggled against her bonds, and the enormity of the injustice he had done to her was a crushing weight he knew he could never get out from under. He saw the cold resolve in Jacob’s eyes as he watched Jacob slip his hand around the hilt of his dagger and without hesitation, took the decision out of his friend’s hands. Turning, he swiftly fled back to the living room to retrieve his own blade.
Consumed with pure, undiluted fear, Grace renewed her struggles as the three huge, terrifying men who had burst into the room moments before raced after her kidnapper’s retreating figure. For two weeks, the man named Mason, vampire as she had come to learn, had held her prisoner in his home. If being whisked right off the street, simply disappearing only to wake shackled on a stranger’s bed, hadn’t been enough raw, terror filled trauma to cope with, finding out her abductor was a blood sucking demon had her mind struggling to hold on to her fragile control. The only thing that had saved her sanity was the obvious struggle Mason had with both his guilt and his efforts not to hurt her, giving her hope she was going to come out of this alive.
But nothing she had endured the past two weeks had shocked her as much as her almost immediate reaction to the sudden intrusion of the tall man who had looked as stunned as she had felt upon finding her there. To her embarrassed horror, the odd mark on her neck that had just suddenly appeared four years ago and that Mason had seemed obsessed with since it was identical to the one he had on his right palm, had started to throb, burn with an inner heat that was quickly reciprocated in her nipples and her pussy. Battling her mortification, she tightened her thighs in the hopes he couldn’t see the way her pussy was dampening at just the sight of him. Not only should the trauma of her enforced captivity the past two weeks have kept her from lusting after him or anyone else, but with his long chestnut hair tied back, a small gold hoop adorning his ear and the ends of a tattoo peeking out of the short sleeve of his black tee shirt, he wasn’t even the type of man she was usually drawn to.
But the biggest shocking kicker had been when his vivid green eyes had turned blood red as a look of torment replaced the shock on his face right before he bellowed in rage, revealing a pair of pointed, lethal looking fangs, and her body’s response to him had remained the same. Seeing the same physical abnormalities on her captor had scared her more than her abduction or the way Mason had forced himself on her three times. At first, she had been determined to find a way to free herself, even to the point of going along with her captor in the hopes he’d let his guard down. She knew she could survive anything he did as long as there was a chance she would one day be free, but when he had bitten her neck the last time he had taken her, the white-hot pain mixing with the burning along her vaginal walls when he ejaculated inside her, she felt her hopes of surviving this ordeal plummet.
That is, until now. Two other men came running in and looked at her with the same stunned expression that quickly turned to anger, seemingly on her behalf, and even though she felt her pale complexion redden under their fixed stares, her mind grabbed onto the first ray of hope she has had in two weeks. Ignoring the way her body tingled in response to the first man calling her his mate, she pulled frantically on her wrists while straining to hear what was going on in the other room after they all left as fast as they had arrived in front of her. Shouts and curses were followed by softer tones, an anguished cry and then deafening, eerie silence.
Jacob looked at the pile of ashes that had once been his friend and comrade, angered that he had been denied revenge because he hadn’t been fast enough to stop Mason from plunging his blade into his own heart with enough force to have it protruding out his back, ensuring he had penetrated his heart completely. Both Damien and Luc’s faces showed signs of relief as well as grief, two emotions Jacob knew he would never feel despite the decades of friendship he had shared with Mason. What he did was unforgiveable. Jacob had waited years to find his mate, to enjoy a special bond with another woman like he had witnessed his other brethren enjoying, to find that one person that would complete him and make his existence worth living. And now that he had, because of Mason’s selfish, misguided actions, he wouldn’t be able to claim her, at least not anytime soon.
Shifting his gaze from Mason’s ashes to look bleakly down the hall, he whispered achingly, “He hurt her. Now what am I supposed to do?”
Damien rubbed his hand down his face, his eyes as bleak as Jacob’s, his heart heavy at Mason’s actions and his death. “We could erase her memory, but now that you two have connected, she’ll be a target. It won’t be safe for her to return home unprotected.”
“She goes with me,” Jacob answered with determination. He wasn’t about to put her in any more jeopardy nor was he going to give her up. There had to be a way to both help her over her ordeal as well as keep her by his side. The desire was there, blatantly obvious in her wide blue gaze and in the way her nipples had beaded tightly and her legs had tightened over her pussy.
“Abby can help,” Luc said, pity for both the woman and Jacob in his voice. “She can verify we aren’t all monsters like Mason.”
Without looking at them, Jacob replied, “Give me until dawn then send Abby to my room.” Without waiting for their reply, he walked back down the hall, but instead of approaching his new found mate with excited expectation, each step was taken with dread, his simmering anger difficult to control despite her tormentor being dead.
Clenching his jaw, he tried to ignore the way she cringed against the headboard when he came in. “Where’re your clothes?”
“I…I haven’t s…seen them since he took them the first day he b-brought me here.”
“Fuck,” Jacob muttered as he searched through Mason’s closet until he finally found a loose, calf length skirt and short sleeved sweater. He continued to look for under clothes and shoes, then finally gave up. Mason probably got rid of them first thing. The hardest thing he had ever had to do was approach that bed and deny himself the pleasure of touching his mate, of forcing back the pounding lust and rigid need straining his cock as he untied her and handed her her clothes without freeing his painful erection and sinking between those softly rounded thighs.
“Th-thank you.” Scrambling off the bed, confused with the way her body was practically demanding she lay back and spread her legs for him while her mind rebelled at just the thought of having sex with anyone right now. He didn’t turn his back while she slipped into her skirt and top, grateful for the clothes small armor against her illogical attraction to this man. No, creature, she forcefully reminded herself even though his eyes were once more a vivid shade of green and there was no sign of fangs. Glancing nervously toward the door, she asked, “Where’s Mason?”
“Gone, by his own hand. You don’t have to fear him ever again. You don’t have to fear anything again. I promise no more harm will ever come to you.” She was short, at least a foot shorter than his own six foot two, and pleasantly round. Her breasts were full and soft, her nipples a pretty pale pink and drawn into taut pinpoints that she couldn’t hide, not even after donning her top. He unabashedly looked his fill, moving from her breasts to visually caress her softly rounded stomach before practically drooling at the sight of bare, plump folds shielding her pussy, folds that held a damp sheen that embarrassed her if the bright red flush spreading across her face and the quick way she stepped into her skirt and pulled it up was any indication. “What’s your name?” he asked abruptly.
“Grace.”
Raising a brow, he waited a moment and when she wasn’t any more forthcoming, he inquired, “Just Grace? Most people have a last name.” He had to bite back a grin when her blue eyes flared with temper, her lips tightened mutinously and her toes curled into the thick carpet. His little mate had a stubborn streak as well as a healthy dose of rage inside of her. He was glad Mason hadn’t cowed her completely. She might be down, but she wa
sn’t out. Now all that remained to be seen was if she had the fortitude to deal with and eventually embrace what lay ahead for her, and them.
Insidious guilt was starting to push the anger aside as Jacob cursed himself for not being there for her the past two weeks. Where had he been, what had he been doing while his mate was being terrorized by one of his closest friends? And why in hell hadn’t he tried to get to the bottom of Mason’s recent deflection from both the manor and from the brethren?
“I want to go home,” Grace said as she wondered how he could make such a promise and why his words warmed her as much as his nearness caused her pussy to clench with need. She had been mortified when Mason had told her to either shave her pubic hair or he would do it, had been embarrassed beyond belief when he had looked upon her bare flesh the first time and felt vulnerable in a way she hadn’t felt even when she had first discovered herself a prisoner. But when this man looked at her bare flesh, when those beautiful eyes lingered on her nipples and on her pubis, the only thing she felt was a deep warmth of lust pooling between her bare folds, a need so strong, so undeniable, it scared her more than anything else had these past two weeks. She desperately needed to get away from this man, needed to go home and put this whole experience behind her as quickly as possible.
Jacob flinched at the desperation in her tone and knew what he was about to say and do would only alienate her from him even more. Yet it couldn’t be helped. Her safety had to come before his need. “I’m sorry. We can’t let you do that. There are others, like us but not like us, who would hunt you and use you for bait or leverage against us. You’ll be safe during the day, but come evening, you’ll need to stay with us where we can protect you.” He hoped she would feel more comfortable if he kept saying ‘we’, if she knew she wouldn’t have to be alone with him, as much as he longed for it to be otherwise.
“So I’m still a prisoner only with a different captor,” Grace returned sharply, her fear taking a step back as anger at her predicament pushed to the forefront of her roiling emotions. “And what do you mean, like you but not like you? From what I’ve seen, you’re all monsters, monsters I never knew existed and wish to God I never had to find out.” She took a step away from him when his jaw clenched and his eyes turned cold, cursing herself for not going along with him for now while she plotted her escape from what looked like yet another abduction.
Jacob gave in to temptation and wrapped his hands around her upper arms just below the sleeves of her sweater. The feel of her soft flesh heightened his already over stimulated senses, adding to the pleasure/pain of holding himself back. “I’m tempted to show you the body of another woman who had the misfortune of coming to rogues attention, but you’ve been through enough. I have no way to tell you what you need to know, no way to convince you you’re safe with me and my brethren right now. But I won’t let that keep me from doing what I deem necessary to ensure you come to no more harm and, right now, that means taking you to our home.” Without giving her a chance to answer, he stated firmly, “Take a deep breath and close your eyes.”
Grace felt a familiar dizzying sensation followed by complete blackness only to open her eyes in yet another strange bedroom. A California king four poster bed dominated the room, covered in a burgundy and navy spread. Thick, plush carpet in the same deep wine red felt soft under her feet, just as her new abductor’s body felt hard as a rock in front of her. For one split second, she found herself leaning into his hard chest, relished the feel of her nipples coming into contact with taut muscles, felt safe and secure with his strong arms cradling her, pushing her pelvis against his groin. But the rigid feel of his hard cock pressing into her stomach was like being doused with a bucket of ice water and with a startled cry, she wrenched herself from his arm.
“Don’t touch me!” she cried out, her mind replaying the way Mason had thrust into her despite her pleas for him to stop. Despite her mind’s brutal replay of her worst nightmare, her body’s reaction, her seemingly physical desire which was starting to border on desperate need for this man, didn’t abate, leaving her bereft on a stormy sea of confusion.
Jacob’s own struggle was just as difficult as he knew hers was. At least he had the comfort of knowing what was going on between them, he thought with yet another sigh of regret. The best thing he could do for his mate right now was turn her over to Abby and hope another woman could ease Grace’s mind somewhat.
“Stay here and I’ll send Abby up to you. She’s been raised around us, can explain what’s going on and best of all for you, she’s human.” Jacob turned to leave, then, without turning around, added, “Not that you asked, but my name’s Jacob Carter.”
Chapter Seven
“Man, it sucks to be him,” Luc said as he and Damien watched Jacob return to Mason’s bedroom. “Isn’t there something we can do?” While neither he nor his brother, Jon, were in any hurry to tie themselves down to one woman, he had seen and heard enough from his mated brethren about the nearly irresistible bond to empathize with Jacob’s plight.
“Like what?” Frustration, guilt and grief made Damien lash out but he was instantly sorry when Luc turned and simply raised one brow at him in question. “Sorry. I’m pissed at this whole situation, but mostly I’m pissed at myself for not seeing what was right in front of me. I should’ve forced Mason to talk to me, should’ve seen how truly unhappy he has been since he was turned.”
“Hell, Damien, you’re not our goddamned parent. Mason, and only Mason is accountable for his actions. You shoulder too much as it is, you’re not responsible if one of us goes off the deep end.”
Damien knew Luc was right, but he couldn’t help feeling as if he not only let Mason down, but his victim and Jacob also. The force of his seething fury at Mason’s actions was only tempered by the gnawing inner torment of his suicide, the loss of his brethren’s moral code as well as his life nearly overwhelming him with a confliction of emotions. In truth, Mason had spared the three of them the anguish of having to end his existence. But while that small consolation meant they had less to grieve for, denying them a chance to avenge the wrong done to Jacob’s mate kept the rage festering.
Then there was the ever present guilt that he harbored over his actions after he had first been turned by Isabelle. If it hadn’t been for his weakness in succumbing to Isabelle’s seductive lies and lifestyle, he might have been able to find a way to kill her instead of an innocent woman, might have been able to spare all of them the trauma of falling prey to that evil witch. That was a burden he would always carry, a load he had no way of lightening or making amends for.
““Go back to the manor, Luc,” Damien said tiredly. “I’ll do damage control here, make it look like Mason just up and left. No one should come looking for him until he’s late on the rent payment and I doubt if the landlord spends any time or effort on trying to track him down.”
Damien what’s wrong? Do you need me?
Mason’s small house was dark and quiet and the sudden intrusion of the soft, intimate sound of Abby’s voice on his guilt laden mind as he swept up Mason’s ashes added another layer of gut wrenching pain and anger to his battered senses, the concern she couldn’t hide nearly his undoing. This past week had been hell trying to avoid any more sexual encounters with her, more difficult since she was now ensconced in his home where she fit perfectly. He rose each evening in time to pick her up when she closed her shop at six, and it took every ounce of his determined will to keep from tossing her down and fucking her so hard she wouldn’t be able to walk for days. His body was slowly losing the extra strength he was capable of amassing through sex, his power to move with inhuman speed as well as dematerialize and solidify in another place miles away diminishing with each day he denied himself what she so freely offered.
Why aren’t you sleeping, bebe?
Abrielle sat up in Damien’s bed and clutched the covers to her, her body reacting as it always did to him when he called her baby in his French dialect. The intimacy of speaking telepathically, of he
aring his deep voice in her head, had her breasts swelling, her nipples peaking and her thighs tightening over her aching, empty pussy. I can feel your pain, and your anger. What has you so upset? She knew Marie’s death preyed on him, but she still couldn’t quite forgive him for his abrupt departure last week, the way he had simply left her with the taste of his semen still on her tongue and her body still pulsing with her own climax, nor could she understand his distance this past week despite her now residing under his roof and seeing him every evening before he took off for the night and left her alone with one of the guys to ensure her safety.
Another error in judgment, Damien thought but didn’t voice to her. His cock was making its demand known, straining against his zipper with the need to bury himself inside his mate, to slake this never ending thirst he had for Abrielle and feel the renewal of his full strength and power. His body’s demand that he claim her, that he give in to what he desperately wanted and needed increased every day, and now that overwhelming lust was enhanced by his rage at yet another loss. He was still reeling from Marie’s death, from the terror and pain he knew she had suffered simply because she had the misfortune of being close to him, and now he had to find a way to cope not only with the loss of a man he had known for over a hundred years but of the way Mason had turned his back on him and all the brethren and what they stood for.
I’ll be home soon, Abby. Go back to sleep.
He needed her, needed what she could give him and Abby refused to let his stubbornness keep her from helping him through whatever he was dealing with. Opening her mind further, she let him see her, enticed him to watch as she pushed the covers down and slipped off his tee shirt that she had been sleeping in this past week. Come home, Damien. Running her palms down her chest, cupping her breasts and lightly grazing her nipples before lowering her hands to her thighs and spreading them, she let him visually see how much she needed him, how ready she was for him.