Naura

by Ditter Kellen

“One more thing,” the Cuban voiced, guiding the yacht into its designated spot. “Miguel is a name I picked up when I moved here and bought a big piece of Playa Pilar. My name is Nicho Ozele. You can call me Oz.”

  A lot of pieces suddenly fell into place for Tony. “The cartel?”

  Oz nodded. “I am originally from Puerto Padre. I spent most of the first thirty years of my life running drugs for the Cuban cartel. My mother worked for Carlito Acosta as a whore, and she introduced me to the game at the ripe young age of seven.”

  “Acosta is the leader I take it?”

  Ozele nodded. “Carlito killed my mother after a john accused her of stealing from him.”

  “Jesus,” Tony swore. “How old were you when she died?”

  “Thirteen.” Oz switched off the engine and met Tony’s gaze. “I broke into his safe on the night I left and took twenty million dollars in diamonds before I killed him.”

  “Twenty million dollars?” Tony swallowed hard. “Is that why the cartel paid you a visit last week?”

  “No. Acosta’s son took over after his father’s death. He’s been looking for me since.”

  “Then how did he find you?”

  Oz pinched the bridge of his nose. “He didn’t. Some of my hotel guests happened to be cartel. One of them recognized me. Naturally it got ugly. The bastards got trigger-happy and shot up the place. It’s going to cost me a small fortune in repairs.”

  “Any sign of them since?”

  Nicho hesitated. “They will not be a problem any longer.”

  Tony turned to go collect Naura. “You won’t get any judgment from me.”

  * * * *

  Nicho’s hotel sat a short distance away from the gulf’s shore, boasting of over five hundred rooms.

  The Bracadytes were all in attendance, settled comfortably in their suits.

  “It is the most beautiful place I have ever seen,” Naura remarked, holding Tony’s hand as they walked through the lobby.

  Tony had filled Naura, Hauke, and Abbie in on Nicho’s secret. Now that the cat was out of the proverbial bag, Nicho felt it safe to come clean.

  “He prefers to be called Oz,” Tony continued, glancing back to be sure Hauke and Abbie understood. “See you guys at dinner.”

  Nicho strode through the lobby, speaking to Klause and another Bracadyte that Tony didn’t recognize. Oz said something else to the king before breaking away and sauntering over to kiss Naura’s hand. “We meet again, lovely one.”

  Relative or not, Tony didn’t like the intimate touch.

  “The king is searching for Vaulcron,” Nicho murmured, releasing Naura’s hand and meeting Tony’s gaze. “Perhaps an intervention is in order.”

  Tony raised an eyebrow. “An intervention?”

  “Vaulcron is with Mallory Cahill. And trust me when I say, this will not bode well for him.”

  The growl Tony had been fighting rose up in his chest. “Where are they?”

  “In Room 323 on the third floor.”

  Tony was exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to take Naura to their own room, grab a hot shower, and make love to her the rest of the night.

  He turned to his beautiful mate. “Go on to our room. I’ll be along after I speak with Vaulcron.”

  “I’ll see that she gets there safely,” Oz assured Tony with a teasing light in his eyes.

  Tony grinned in response. He couldn’t help it. “If you value your neck, you’ll stay clear of hers.”

  “Yes, sir,” Oz saluted, taking Naura’s hand and leading her to the elevators.

  Tony took the stairs, jogging up them two at a time until he emerged onto the third floor. Stopping in front of Room 323, he raised his hand and rapped on the door with his knuckles.

  Silence.

  Knocking once more, Tony twisted the knob and pushed the door open to find the room empty.

  Damn you, Vaulcron. You’re playing with fire.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Naura relaxed in the giant tub, mesmerized by the lights reflecting off the bubbles.

  “Mind if I join you?”

  She turned her head toward Tony’s voice to find him standing nude in the open doorway to the bathroom, popping a piece of gum into his mouth.

  Her gaze traveled down his muscular body, stopping on his thick, swollen erection. “Only if you brought me a piece as well.”

  He padded across the floor, stepped over into the tub, and pulled her onto his lap facing him. “Open up.”

  Naura grinned and opened her mouth far enough for him to slip the icy-flavored gum inside.

  “I was hoping I’d find you in here,” he rumbled, nuzzling her neck with his nose.

  “Oh?” She leaned back, flattening her hands on his knees, forcing her breasts upward.

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  The feel of his warm, wet lips closing over her nipple sent heat racing straight to her center.

  She wondered if it would always be this way with him. This incredible feeling she got when he was near.

  And then his fingers were inside her, stroking her, caressing her, and she forgot everything but the orgasm racing up her spine.

  * * * *

  Hours later as they lay in a tangle of damp sheets, Naura rolled to her side and propped her head on the palm of her hand.

  Anxiety mixed with apprehension, sped up her heart rate. “Tony?”

  “Hmmmm?” He lay on his back with his eyes closed.

  “Do you want children?” she blurted before she lost her nerve.

  His lids slowly opened; his gaze traveled to her abdomen before meeting her eyes once again. “Are you?”

  “No, I am not with child, but…”

  “But what?” He turned on his side to face her.

  “Would it be so bad to have a baby with me?”

  There was no hesitation in his response, no shadow in his eyes. “I would love to have a baby with you, when the time is right. Once I have you tucked safely away from those that mean you harm, we can have all the children you want.”

  Naura’s heart soared with happiness. She threw herself across Tony’s chest and kissed him until she became breathless.

  “Marry me, Naura. I want you to have my name, and our future kids to have my name.”

  “Naura Vaughn. I like the sound of that.”

  She tossed her leg over him and straddled his waist. “Make love to me again.”

  “Every day until I draw my last breath,” he whispered, and proceeded to do just that.

  * * * *

  “Naura?” Vaulcron’s voice echoed through her mind, bringing her out of her slumber.

  “What is it, my brother?”

  There was a long pause. “I am returning to Destin with Mallory Cahill. Tell father that I will do what I must to secure Aukrabah so that our families can once again be whole.”

  “But…”

  “Do not worry for me, my sister. We have devised a plan. Together we will bring down the ones responsible for the injustice done to the Bracadytes. Do not send anyone after me. They will only endanger themselves.”

  “Be safe, my brother, and know that I love you.”

  “I love you as well. I will be in touch soon.”

  With that, he broke the connection, leaving Naura with a feeling of foreboding.

  She peered over at Tony’s sleeping form and wondered what he would do in her situation.

  “I would allow him do what he’s gone to do,” Tony murmured, opening his eyes. “Let him go, sweet Naura. He’s a grown man.”

  “But what if he finds himself in trouble back there?”

  “Then we go after him.”

  Naura nodded. “I do not want to tell the king.”

  “That can wait a while. There’s nothing he can do anyhow. Vaulcron will stay in touch. He’s stubborn…not stupid.”

  “You do not know my brother as I do,” Naura retorted, snuggling in close to her mate’s side. “Not at all.”

  Life for the Bracadytes had become full of uncertainty.
The future of their race threatened by those who did not understand them. Ignorance came in many forms, shapes, and genetics, but Naura held to a tiny spark of hope that one day, man and Bracadyte could live together in peace.

  “Fare thee well, Vaulcron…”

  The End

  Vaulcron

  Book Three-Coming Soon

  Scroll down for a preview of Lydia’s Secret

  Lydia’s Secret

  Available on Amazon

  Lydia gripped her coat’s collar closed as freezing wind pelted against her. She’d been waiting on a cab to come along for the past fifteen minutes without any luck. They obviously have better sense than I do.

  She shivered and rubbed her arms. White puffs of smoke surrounded her face with every breath she took.

  The icy roads remained empty no matter how many times she prayed for headlights. Her toes were already frozen to the point of being numb and standing by the street waiting on a taxi to come along wouldn’t change things. She sighed and turned toward home.

  “God, I hate working nights.” Her boots crunched the snow with every step she took, echoing off the walls of the various shops she passed.

  Very few people had braved the storm, she thought, squinting against the glare of a streetlight reflecting off the falling snow.

  Being alone at night in a shady part of town wasn’t the brightest thing she’d ever done, but it was a bit late for regrets. She had a daughter at home who needed her, and she couldn’t afford to be late.

  January had been her favorite time of year since Jacie’s birth, and Lydia was determined to make her birthday special for her, which was why she’d taken on extra shifts.

  Vacation had officially begun for Lydia when she’d clocked out for the night. She had an entire week ahead of her to spend with her daughter if she didn’t freeze to death before reaching her.

  A light flared and went out, creating a domino effect with every closed shop on her side of the street. Great. A power outage. Clouds blocked most of the moon’s glow, leaving only the dirty snow to guide her home.

  Her gaze swept the darkness of every alley that she passed. Dumpsters, boxes, and trash made perfect hiding places for things that went bump in the night. She picked up her pace. Only six more blocks.

  A faint noise came from behind her, and she glanced over her shoulder. The shadows seemed to come alive, and the feeling of being followed nearly overwhelmed her. Sound became magnified the faster she walked until her heart threatened to seize up.

  The sound came again, closer this time, and Lydia had to force herself not to run. She knew it was probably her imagination from watching too many horror movies. The last thing she needed to do was panic. She gripped her purse tighter and picked up her pace.

  A small rock skimmed past her feet to land in the street beyond.

  Lydia spun around, her gaze frantically searching the darkness. “Who’s there?”

  Slowly backing up, she kept her senses open for the slightest sound or movement. “Hello?” An eerie silence followed, intensifying the thoughts now feeding her fear. Every horrific scenario she could imagine snaked through her mind, spiking her adrenaline. She scanned the surrounding area once more before spinning on her heel and striding briskly toward home.

  The city park loomed just ahead, and she slowed her steps. With the power outage it seemed more like a cemetery than a family recreational area. It took sheer determination to force her feet into motion. Her knees felt weak, and every muscle she had was poised for flight.

  She decided skirting the edge would be far safer than cutting through the center where Satan no doubt lounged, waiting on some poor defenseless female to come skipping through.

  A twig snapped in the distance, ricocheting off the massive trees lining the park. Please let that be an animal. Her gaze flew through the area in rapid succession, taking in everything in a sweep. Frost came from her mouth in short bursts of white, impairing her vision and sparking more anxiety with every choppy breath she took.

  “If I get out of this alive—”

  She was suddenly grabbed and jerked off her feet. A hand clamped over her mouth, and she was dragged off the path into a nearby alley before a scream could form. Panic gripped her mind as she tried to fight the attacker off, kicking out with her legs and clawing at the hand cutting off her oxygen.

  “Let’s see what we have here,” A man’s smooth voice wrapped around her like a caress. Warmth flooded her mind with gentle pressure, leaving a feeling of calmness in its wake. Lydia instantly relaxed until her body went limp.

  His arms encircled her, holding her suspended as he nuzzled her neck. “You smell incredible…just like Ione.”

  Somewhere deep within her psyche, a picture of a woman’s smiling face appeared. There was something vaguely familiar about her, Lydia thought as she fought to hold on to the image. The pressure increased inside her head, becoming painful.

  “Please,” she mumbled weakly. “It hurts.”

  He lifted his head. “Stop fighting it. It isn’t painful if you don’t fight.”

  The clouds parted, and the moon’s cold light glinted off a pair of fangs. Fangs?

  His face was almost hollow in the darkness. He tilted his head, and Lydia could only watch hypnotized as he slowly descended toward her neck once again.

  There was a blur of motion, and someone slammed against her attacker, tearing him away. “Run, damn you!” The shout was raw and full of fury, jerking her out of her frozen state.

  Lydia ran, frantically clawing her way along the building, half sliding through the ice and slush. Fear was a living thing inside her, causing her to slip several more times before reaching the sidewalk.

  The sound of fighting could be heard over her rapid breathing, and she chanced a look back. Her feet hit a patch of ice and flew out from under her. She had a moment to cry out before the back of her head smacked against the concrete. Pain erupted through her skull, and her vision grayed. She fell into darkness.

  * * * *

  Roman slammed Simon against the opposite wall. The overpowering scent of the woman’s fear called to the beast within him. He’d almost been too late. Her gasp and retreating steps did nothing to appease his demon. The full weight of his rage focused solely on the vampire in front of him.

  “I wasn’t going to kill her, Roman.”

  “What are you doing here?” he growled through clenched teeth.

  “Cruising for chicks.”

  “Bull—”

  A fist slammed into Roman’s jaw, and a fang caught the inside of his mouth. Blood touched his tongue, and the beast within him grew ravenous until pain faded into the background. Heat grew behind his eyes, burning his pupils.

  Fire suddenly shot through his side, and he roared. There was no mistaking the agony of silver, a vampire’s greatest weakness.

  “Hurts, doesn’t it?” Simon flashed him a smile and jerked away. “My own little creation.” He held up the blood-soaked spike by the wooden handle. “How long has it been since you fed? A week? A month?” His lip curled back. “Your blood stinks like a corpse.”

  Roman knocked the other guy’s arm up with all his strength, pounding him forward with hit after hit until only the wall kept Simon standing. Brick dust wafted out around them.

  He had Simon by the throat with one hand and his wrist pinned with the other while fire burned through his torso from the stab wound the asshole had inflicted. Roman squeezed until the spike fell from Simon’s fingers. “Be thankful I haven’t fed, or I would have ripped your arm off.”

  Simon coughed. “I know I’m pretty, but I’m not your type,” he wheezed with a lopsided grin. “Now either kiss me or back off, old man.”

  Roman ignored the insult. “I know why you are stalking her. Haven’t you learned your lesson by now?”

  “You don’t know shit, oh noble pain in my ass.”

  The woman’s cry tore through the night, and the rich scent of her blood permeated the stink of the alley. Simon went complete
ly still. His nostrils flared and his blue eyes glowed in the darkness.

  “Don’t,” Roman bit out.

  Simon knocked him back enough to break Roman’s hold on him. “Try to stop me.”

  Bracing his body to keep Simon from reaching her, Roman locked his legs and extended his arms, blocking the rogue in once again.

  “She’s mine.” Simon bared his fangs.

  A growl rumbled in Roman’s chest. “Over my dead body.”

  “Newsflash, asshole, you’re already dead.” Pain chased across Simon’s face before it smoothed into the emotionless mask he’d spent centuries perfecting. “She smells like Ione.”

  “Ione suffered enough at your hands.” Roman’s voice was hoarse with emotion. “Now disappear, or I kill you where you stand.”

  Something flickered in Simon’s gaze. “You son of a bitch.” With lightning speed he spun Roman around and slammed him against the unforgiving brick. “How long have you known it was her?”

  “Since you slithered into my city following her.”

  “You took Ione. This one belongs to me,” Simon snarled.

  Roman gripped the hands that fisted his shirt, and Simon’s emotions poured into him. Pain. Rage. Vengeance. Underlying all of it was his unforgiving bitterness toward Roman.

  “She was never yours, Simon.”

  “Keep telling yourself that, dickhead.” Simon snatched his hands away and tilted his head. “I’ll be seeing you.”

  Roman launched at him, but the injured woman and the sound of sirens stopped him from giving chase. Her moan of pain spurred him into motion. He ground his teeth and pressed a hand against his side. The blood had stopped flowing from the wound, but it still burned like hell.

  Picking up the spike by the handle, he tossed it into a nearby dumpster. Simon might find it again, but that nasty piece of work didn’t need to be discovered by the police.

  He turned from the alley and ran to her, dropping to his knees by her side. She was semiconscious he noticed, lifting her head and laying it gently onto his lap. He coasted his fingers along her scalp to gauge her injuries. The bleeding was minimal but potent, and his beast roared from within for just a taste. No evidence of a bite could be seen on her exposed skin, he noticed with a sigh of relief.