Blood Rights [Wicked River 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Gabrielle Evans

  “Give her to us,” the demon demanded, “or we’ll take her.”

  “Why me?”

  It had been the one question on her mind since the entire thing started. They’d already gone through plenty of other demons. What made her so special? Why had they gone through so much to get their hands on her?

  “You’re my daughter.”

  Oh, that was a good one. The asshole had waited over forty years, made her a prisoner in her own home, and threatened the lives of everyone she cared about just to have some kind of father-daughter reunion. Did she really look that stupid?

  “Only one demon omega is born every hundred years. We’ve been waiting a long time for you.”

  “How could you have possibly known I would be an omega?” Moira pressed her lips together and berated herself internally for engaging in a dialogue with the sadistic prick.

  A very nude, very beautiful woman emerged into the narrow clearing, walking toward Moira’s father as though she was working a fashion runway in Paris. “Oh, you really don’t know anything do you, sweetheart?” Her tone, though pleasant, suggested she was talking to a child. “You, my dear, are royalty.”

  “Only the royal family can produce omegas,” her father explained with a smile that lacked any kind of warmth. “Please, allow me to introduce your mother, Queen Serena Zasio.”

  “And your father,” Serena purred, curling herself into her mate’s side, “King Xavier Zasio.”

  Moira didn’t give a rat’s ass about their royal status. The situation was much harder emotionally than she thought it would be, however. No matter how many times she’d gone over the scenario in her head, no matter how much she’d prepared herself for it, seeing her birth parents for the first time created a strange ache in the pit of her stomach.

  They’d given her up, and now the only reason they wanted her back was to use her. It definitely drove home the fact that until she’d met Brock, not a single person in her life had ever cared about her. “What do you want with Ryah?” There had to be a reason she’d been delegated the task of keeping the woman safe.

  Even though Ryah wasn’t her sister by blood, Moira had watched her grow from a girl into a woman. Her role had been a distant one, regulated to the shadows, but she’d never begrudged the job she’d been given. Finding out that Ryah wasn’t actually her sister didn’t change anything. After twenty-three years of longing to have a relationship with the girl, she finally had that. In her heart, Ryah Hardaway would always be her family.

  “My daughter is no longer your concern,” the Tennessee alpha snapped at her.

  The wolf beside her went stiff against her leg. After having her own parents shoved in her face, she didn’t have to guess at how Ryah was feeling. “None of it matters,” she whispered. “These people are not our family. We are not defined by our pasts.”

  Though she’d said it to calm Ryah, she realized how true the words were. Until their mates had stepped in to save them, both her and Ryah had been used, their value defined only by what they could offer to people they’d never even met.

  No one was ever going to use them again.

  “What Mr. Hardaway is trying to say, is that you are no longer obligated to care for Ryah.” Xavier smiled again, though his eyes cut sharply to the lycan in reprimand. “Since her mother was a Keeper, we had hoped she would be born an omega. Though only a Keeper can give birth to an omega, not every child born of a Keeper is an omega.”

  Ryah whimpered and growled quietly, moving back and forth in agitated movements. Ignoring everyone and everything else around her, Moira crouched down and took the wolf’s face in both hands, demanding Ryah’s full attention. “What’s wrong, baby girl?” She tapped her temple, reminding her sister that she didn’t need to speak for Moira to understand her.

  “If what they’re saying is true, Jasmine might not be an omega.”

  “That’s not exactly a bad thing.”

  “They’ll still want her.” Ryah’s anxiety was palpable, and Moira needed to do something quick before she completely fell apart. “They’re going to try to take her. They can’t have her.”

  “Shh, shh, shh. Are you going to run away and let them win? Or are you going to fight? If you don’t fight, they will take her. They will win.”

  “Come home, Moira.” Xavier stepped closer to the edge of the water and held out a hand toward her. “If you come home, I promise to leave Ryah and her family in peace.”

  “Don’t you dare listen to him.” Brock grabbed her around the elbow and snarled.

  “Why should we have to hide from humans?” Xavier pressed. “We should be ruling them. With your help, we can do that.”

  “Why me? You’re a pureblood. Use your own royal blood to make your army.” She knew the answer, but she wanted to hear him say it, to acknowledge that she was stronger than him.

  “I could and I have, but I don’t have your power.”

  Grinning from ear to ear like a Cheshire cat, Moira shook off Brock’s hold on her arm and held her hands out to her sides. “No, Daddy, you don’t.”

  * * * *

  Kicking out with his hind legs, Koba caught the vampire in the midsection, causing him to grunt but not to release his hold. The horde of lycans was coming closer, and if he didn’t get free before they reached him, he was completely screwed.

  Growing desperate, he changed tactics, using his front paws to swipe at his attacker’s face and neck, hoping to cause enough pain to shock the vampire long enough for him to scramble to safety. Suddenly, the man straddling him let out a huff of air and slumped forward, pinning Koba beneath his much larger body.

  “Comfortable down there?” Casey grabbed the vampire’s collar and hauled him to the side, allowing Koba to shift back to his human skin.

  “It took you long enough, asshole.” Damn, his neck ached, and the blood flowing from the wound felt hot and sticky. There wasn’t time to dwell on his disgruntlement, though.

  When the first wolf came rushing toward him through the small gap created by two tree trunks, Koba pushed everything away and channeled his anxiety from moments before. He couldn’t control the pheromones that came along with it, but that didn’t stop him from sending out a blast of power, hoping to confuse and disorient the pack with his influence.

  Luckily, it worked, stopping most of the wolves in their tracks. Unfortunately, he couldn’t pick and choose who he impacted, so Casey and Joss also dropped to their knees, giving him the classic deer in the headlights look. He regretted the loss of backup, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.

  Time was a very peculiar thing, and what felt like hours to him could have realistically only been a few minutes. His biggest concern now had shifted from his safety to if he’d allowed enough time for Brock to neutralize the situation back at the river banks. Keeping as many of their enemies occupied for as long as possible was crucial to their success.

  Without having a clear gauge of how much time had passed, he was reluctant to return to his mates. The choice was abruptly taken out of his hands when a group of stragglers came barreling into the forest, barking, snarling, and shaking up the lycans already gathered there.

  “Well, fuck.” Shifting back into his wolf, he took off at a sprint, zigzagging through the trees on his way back to Brock and Moira. He just hoped like hell they were ready and waiting for him.

  * * * *

  “Use your own royal blood to make your army.”

  “I could and I have, but I don’t have your power,” Xavier admitted.

  Moira’s grin was challenging and cocky. “No, Daddy, you don’t.”

  To Brock, there was nothing sexier than a confident woman, and right then, Moira was exquisite. “I think we’ve said everything that needs sayin’.”

  “Agreed.” Shoving her hands out in front of her, Moira’s eyes went to the river, concentrating her full attention on the flowing waters.

  Brock held his breath, watching and waiting. They’d spent all week working on Moira’s powers, pushi
ng them to the limits, and she’d done amazing. This was huge, though, especially since the biggest body of water she’d worked with was a garden tub.

  Manipulating the stream had originally been planned as an exit strategy, giving them easier access to the other side in case they needed to retreat quickly. Brock wasn’t above using it to their advantage, though. “Last chance,” he called. “Leave now.”

  Instead of taking his peace offering, the men and women opposing them began removing their clothing, preparing to fight for what they wanted. Brock had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but logically, he’d always known it would. His wolf was a predator by nature, but the man in him wasn’t a killer, lamenting the loss of life. This would be a hard battle for him, but he knew what he had to do to protect what was most important to him.

  Loud barks and high-pitched mewling sounds distracted him from Moira’s task, and he pivoted just in time to see several vampires and Walkers leap down from the trees to land in the midst of their group. With so many different types of paranormals around him, there was no way he could have scented out those lurking in the tree branches. As the alpha and leader of his faction, that wasn’t a good enough excuse for him, though. He should have been prepared for this.

  Kneeling down on the soft earth, he turned his face up to the moon, praying to the goddess that his transformation would be swift. She must have heard his wish, because he practically burst from his skin, his muscles and bones realigning faster than he could ever remember. Once fully changed, he pushed off hard with his back legs, sailing through the air and landing on the back of one of the bigger Walkers.

  The battled raged on around him, most of it nothing more than a blur of teeth, claws, fists, and fur. The sounds echoing around him were horrendous, filled with pain and fear. Still, he fought, pushing away everything else but keeping their adversaries away from Moira.

  Ryah and Tate had taken up positions on either side of his mate, cutting down anyone who came too close to her. Vampires were fast, strong, and lethal, but not even Brock could have anticipated that they’d be able to leap across the churning river.

  Within seconds they were outnumbered and overrun, their numbers falling until barely twenty of them remained on their feet. They’d taken a lot of their enemies with them, but not nearly enough if they hoped to win. “Hurry, Mo!”

  The minute the thought went through his head, a huge gush of water went soaring straight up in the air. Instead of falling back to the earth as gravity dictated, however, it hovered there, forming an eight-foot liquid wall. Then it split in two, curling in opposite directions until a narrow, muddy path was presented on the floor of the river.

  “Now!” Moira screamed. “Koba’s almost here.”

  She’d probably heard their mate in her head, but Brock could hear the pack of lycans charging over the decaying leaves and fallen twigs. He was, however, grateful to know that Koba was unharmed.

  Damon, Tate, and Moira began to transform before his eyes. Their skin and hair lightened, their teeth sharpened, and enormous leathery wings punched out from between their shoulder blades and unfurled. The sight was fearsome, and Brock actually flinched when two other demons—Casey and Tennyson—screeched loudly and soared over his head to land beside Moira.

  The sight of so many demons in one place apparently scared the piss out of the vampires they were fighting. The men and women pushed, shoved, and tripped over one another in their eagerness to escape.

  While three of the enemy leaders looked merely dumbstruck, Moira’s father apparently didn’t like the odds any longer. Changing into his own demon form, he seemed much more comfortable with his body than Moira, but then again, he’d had much longer to grow accustomed it.

  Stretching his wings and beating them against the air, he soared between the two walls of water like a bullet, his daggerlike teeth gleaming in the moonlight as he headed straight for Moira. Reacting on instinct, Brock leapt onto his mate’s back, dropping her to the ground as he propelled himself toward Xavier.

  It took only half a heartbeat for him to realize he was more than likely going to die.

  * * * *

  Seeing her father press his knee into Brock’s throat and begin ripping at him with his claws sent a wave of cold, unadulterated fury through Moira until the air literally cracked around her. Hissing loudly, she jumped to her feet, only to be knocked down by two lycans as they rocketed out of the forest.

  Instead of frightening her, it only fueled her rage, and she dispatched them easily with a mere flick of her wrist. Her fellow demons converged on the other wolves, incapacitating them with sure, quick efficiency.

  “Come with me,” her father snarled at her, holding up one hand so that his deadly talons pointed toward Brock’s heart. “Come with me, or he dies.”

  Before she could either agree or refuse his offer, Xavier sliced downward, embedding his claws into Brock’s chest with a victorious cry. Something snapped inside Moira as she watched the blood spill out from the wounds and pool on the ground beneath her lover’s limp body.

  Throwing her head back on her shoulders, she let out an unholy screech like that of a giant prehistoric bird. The moonlight bathed her, gave her strength, heightened her senses, and more importantly, her power. Harnessing the beams, coiling the energy deep inside her, she waited until the pressure was so intense she felt like she’d explode with it.

  Throwing her arms wide, she screamed in another one of those birdlike cries, unleashing all of the electricity that flowed within her. Small strobes of light flickered in her vision and illuminated the night in brief flashes that made everything seem to move in slow motion.

  She wasn’t exactly sure what she’d done, but one by one, the people surrounding her began to crumple to the ground where they twitched and convulsed as though she’d shocked them with a stun gun. Too bad she had zero control over the unique ability, causing her comrades to fall as well. On the bright side, it didn’t look like anyone was dead—just currently without control of their nervous systems.

  For whatever reason, the electrical current hadn’t dropped her father, though, leaving them the only two standing. “You owe me your loyalty.”

  “I owe you nothing,” she spat.

  “You are a princess.”

  “Sorry, not really the tiara type.”

  “We can rule the world, Moira. With you, the omega, the Keeper and her child—we’ll be unstoppable.” He crawled off of Brock’s unmoving body and grabbed Ryah’s limp, furry head in one of his spindly hands. “I don’t really need the Keeper, I suppose. Will you have her blood on your hands as well?”

  Narrowing her eyes, focusing all of her anger, bitterness, and resentment, Moira crept toward the demon, no longer recognizing him as even the man who’d donated the sperm to create her. He was less than a stranger, and for the suffering he’d caused, his life was forfeit. “Let her go.”

  “What are you doing?” She was pleased to note the slight edge of panic to his voice. Doing as instructed, he released Ryah and stumbled backward, pressing his palms to his temples. “Stop this!”

  “I thought you liked playing games. You certainly like using people. Tell me something. Did you really promise me to Rip?” She’d seen the beta shift and chase after Koba when the negotiations had first begun and could only assume he was one of the red wolves jerking around on the ground.

  “Moira, stop!”

  “Did you ever care about me?” She took a step closer, tilting her head to the side in a curious way. “Or was I always just your golden goose? Did you bribe Ryah’s mother to convince me to look after her? Was that part of the plan, too?”

  “Ryah’s mother loved her. She wanted her protected from the alpha. That’s the truth. I swear it.”

  Oh, he was very chatty now. Moira was all out of questions, and she was growing tired of her plaything, though. “You are going to leave now.”

  Xavier dropped to his knees and fisted his fingers in his hair, shaking his head back and forth as blood tric
kled from his nose, eyes, and ears. He didn’t answer her, though, which she found extremely rude.

  “You will leave,” she repeated. “If I ever see you again, I promise you that I will not be so forgiving. If I even suspect that you’re making more Walkers, or if there is so much as a rumor that people have died because of them, I will find you. Do you understand?”

  “Yes. Yes! Whatever you want. I promise. You have my word.”

  “Then run, run as fast as you can,” she said in a singsong voice. “Watch your back for the boogeyman.”

  Epilogue

  It had taken Brock nearly two whole weeks to recover from his injuries, but six months later, he didn’t even have a scar from the ordeal. Things had been quiet in Mission Landing, and as a happy surprise, his entire team had decided to stay and set up roots in the sleepy little Alabama town.

  Koba, Casey, and Joss had caught up with the other three leaders, and they hadn’t been as lenient as Moira. Brock felt their actions had been justified, but he knew Koba still held a measure of guilt over his actions, mostly over the death of Brock’s father. He’d get over it in time, and until then, the best thing Brock and Moira could do was surround him with love and support.

  For the week leading up to the confrontation, they’d practiced having the hybrids shift into their demon forms, going under the assumption that Moira could draw them back to light with her powers as an omega. They’d worked with only Damon and Tate at first, surrounded by a battalion of guards. Since Ryah had already been successful in bringing Tate back once he’d unleashed his demon, they had her on standby as well.

  None of it had been necessary. A demon omega was not the same as a lycan omega in several different ways. The main difference was that a demon omega was the most powerful of their species, ranking higher than even a lycan alpha on the proverbial totem pole. One word from Moira, and her brethren were utterly at her command.