Gypsy: Sons of Sangue

by Patricia A. Rasey

  “And give her to you?” Grayson laughed. “That will be a cold day in hell.”

  Tamera walked around Grayson, not bothering to look in his direction. “I’m standing right here, you know. I can hear you.”

  “So?”

  “So stop talking about me like I’m not.” She strode over to the chair where Suzi sat, turned and used the arm for a seat. Bracing her hands on her knees and leaning slightly forward, her breasts damn near spilled out of her barely-there red tank, making his balls tighten. “Seriously, Gypsy, why not just let me go? You can have your room back and I can have my sanity. I’m really getting tired of the two of you treating me as if I’m some sort of possession. Had it not been for Gramps’ directive that I stay here, I would’ve been out of here a long time ago. I could always go back to my old apartment or live with Draven.”

  “Like hell you will.” Draven spoke up, eyes wide. “I am not into pissing off any ancient vampires who have the ability to kill me with a single flick of their finger. You made your bed, doll.”

  Tamera raised a brow. “You didn’t think twice about getting on Kaleb’s bad side when you took in Suzi.”

  “That was different,” the barkeep grumbled, his gaze avoiding Kaleb’s.

  A smile itched up Grayson’s cheeks. Tamera sure knew how to stir up shit. She definitely had a boatload of spunk he couldn’t help but admire.

  “Not in my eyes, asshole,” Kaleb said, a spark of anger flaring in his gaze. “You and I still haven’t addressed the issue of you sleeping with my woman.”

  Draven’s one hand went up in defense. “Whoa there, Hawk. She came to me after you let her go. As I recall, she wasn’t anyone’s woman at the time.”

  “You touch her again—”

  “Seriously?” Draven nearly choked on his whiskey. “I don’t have a death wish.”

  Kaleb’s heated gaze stayed on Draven. Grayson got the impression Tamera had hit a real sore spot for the P. A groan from the sofa cut through the tension. Ryder tossed to his back, his hands fisting at his sides. He cried out in what Grayson knew firsthand to be pure agony. Grayson wasn’t a true blood like the twins, Kane and Kaleb. He had been turned, saved from certain death after what should’ve been a fatal motorcycle accident. Kane had saved his life.

  “The change has begun,” Kaleb said. “Gypsy, you and Blondy take him back to the farmhouse until it’s complete. The women are on lockdown until we take care of the Devils responsible for this debacle. In two days, we’ll ride out. By then, Ryder should be able to identify the two pieces of crap who tried to end his life.”

  He turned to Cara. “Any chance you can get intel on the boat and the captain Blondy took out?”

  “I’ll head to the station—”

  “Like hell you will,” Kane barked. “Did you miss the lockdown part?”

  Cara smiled sweetly. “I have a gun, sweetheart.”

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass. You stay here. I’ll check in with Sheriff Ducat.”

  “Viper.” Cara’s tone held an edge, daring Kane to argue. “You need to let me do my job. I’ll call Hernandez and we’ll head for the marina before anyone finds the dead captain. I need to make sure we don’t lose any evidence on that boat.”

  “You’ll be out of your jurisdiction,” Kane pointed out, as if that might dissuade her.

  “Don’t forget we’re working with the DEA. They’ll make sure we get clearance.”

  A muscle in Kane’s cheek ticked. It was obvious he was not comfortable allowing Cara to do her job, not when it involved the Devils and the cartel. In truth, the woman could handle her own with the best of them, with or without her firearm. For a female, Cara Brahnam was a scrapper. Hell, he’d allow her to cover his back any day. Grayson nearly laughed as Kane wrestled with keeping his mouth shut, or chance further pissing off his mate. Saying anything further would be tantamount to saying she was a slacker at her job, which she was damn good at. Grayson sought out his redheaded mate, who looked pretty relieved not to be the subject of the conversation.

  His gaze dipped.

  He couldn’t help admiring the ample cleavage that continued to spill over the neckline of a red shirt better suited for the bedroom. Normally, Grayson never minded what a female wore. The less the better as far as he was concerned. But until he decided what to do with Tamera, he wasn’t at all fond of her tits on display for everyone. One look at Anton told Grayson the man hadn’t missed the view. He grit his teeth. Merda, but he couldn’t keep playing both sides of the coin. Either he take what his dick wanted, thus saddling himself with the woman for eternity. Or cut her loose, knowing full-well Anton would be there to take his place.

  Her cheeks heated pink as she spied the line of Grayson’s gaze. He couldn’t help but wonder what Vlad might say if he decided to sample the goods before cutting his losses. Yeah, he rubbed his whiskered jaw. He was pretty sure that wouldn’t go in his favor.

  * * *

  Grayson’s bright blue gaze strayed to her cleavage for the umpteenth time in so many minutes. His desire was evident in the heated way he kept looking at her. His shaggy dark hair lay in wild disarray well past his collar. The rugged, surfer boy look worked on him as did the short beard he now chose to wear. He wasn’t built like Anton, all solid muscle. No, his muscles were more lean like that of an Olympic swimmer. She couldn’t help being caught doing her own ogling. As his gaze darkened, she could tell he didn’t exactly mind her blatant interest. It wasn’t desire, though, that had been their problem. On the contrary, if she could get him to act on what he so obviously wanted, then she might stand a chance in convincing him she wasn’t the devil incarnate.

  Damn maddening vampire anyway.

  It would probably take the force of a tornado to get him to break his willpower. He had made it perfectly clear he didn’t want her as a mate. Even though Grayson didn’t bother hiding the fact he desired her, he never acted on it either. Anton, on the other hand, made his intentions quite clear.

  That alone had to drive Grayson batty.

  He had made it a point to let Tamera know they were never going to happen, and yet he had demanded she stay away from Anton. Tamera sat back and glared at Grayson. Screw him. She had spent the last nine months trying her damnedest to get Grayson into her bed, or, at the very least, see they could be mated and not wind up killing one another. Her efforts had been completely wasted. Grayson continued to turn his animosity toward her every chance he got. In truth, the whole cat and mouse game was starting to wear thin. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad becoming Anton’s mate. A Son was a Son, after all. And Anton was a damn fine looking one.

  Tell that to her heart.

  Tamera met Anton’s gaze and he winked back at her. His warm smile was one that could melt just about any girl’s heart. So why couldn’t she feel differently about him? He had become a good friend to her over the past nine months. And friends could become lovers. Right? Maybe, she could learn to love him more than one might a brother. Tamera grimaced. Yep, there was no way this was ever going to end well. Anton wanted her, but she had her heart set on Grayson. And Grayson desired no one.

  By the looks of it, they were all destined to be alone.

  Except for the fact that Vlad, the original vampire, had her assured someone would be mated to her. If she could only reverse the past nine months. Not going to happen. Tamera was good and stuck, and one way or another she’d wind up with Grayson or Anton. That is, if she wanted to keep her head.

  Her gaze met Grayson’s piercing blue one. Ugh! So why couldn’t she forget the playboy existed and see Anton for the true gem he was? Because regardless of what deals were made, or the way Grayson seemed to want to throttle her, Tamera still wanted him.

  “I need to call Joe. We need to get to that boat before morning.” Cara brought the focus back to Ryder and the matter at hand. “We only have a few hours before the sun rises. I’m not willing to lose evidence because you think I can’t do my job.”

  “Damn it, Cara, I never said you couldn�
��t do your job,” Kane all but growled. “It’s my responsibility to take care of you and make sure you remain safe. I can’t do that if you go riding off in the wee hours of the morning, without much backup, I might add.”

  “Joe will be there with me.”

  “Like I said…”

  Cara jammed her forefinger into Kane’s sternum. “I did my job before you came along.”

  “You weren’t going up against the cartel, Cara. This isn’t negotiable.”

  His mate steeled her jaw and strode to their bedroom, slamming the door. Kane smiled. “That went well.”

  Before he could continue patting himself on the back, his bedroom door reopened. Cara headed for the front of the clubhouse, tucking her Glock into the waistband of her tan trousers. She didn’t bother to stop or offer Kane an explanation. She headed for the door, swung it open, and waltzed right through it. It was all Tamera could do to contain her laughter. Cara Brahnam had balls. She wasn’t about to let Kane dictate how she was to conduct her life or job. Kane cursed beneath his breath, then trotted out the door behind her.

  Kaleb didn’t bother hiding his mirth. Although Suzi looked as if she wanted to slap him upside the head, she remained seated. Probably because it wasn’t worth the effort of trying to hoist herself out of the chair. Grayson was the second one to chuckle, followed by Anton. Sure they could laugh, it wasn’t their mate acting out, or as Tamera saw it, standing up for herself. Good for Cara. It was about time the men realized their women weren’t just eye-candy for the back of their bikes.

  Moments later, Kane walked back in the door and slammed it shut. The walls to the clubhouse trembled from the force. “Damn stubborn woman. Kaleb, get your head out of your ass. Let’s get on the road. Someone has to follow her to Bookings. I sure in the hell don’t trust that damn partner of hers to have her back.”

  “I’ll go,” Grayson quickly offered. “Hawk needs to stay here with the women.”

  “On the contrary, Gypsy. Your vampire, your responsibility.” Kaleb looked at the biker lying on the sofa, starting to thrash in pain. “It’s not an option. You wanted to turn him, you see he makes it through. You won’t ignore him the way you did your mate.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Grayson grumbled, looking briefly at Tamera. “Him, I asked for.”

  Seriously? He did not just say that to her. Lord, she was about a half step from walking out the door and the hell with the consequences. Her feelings aside, no one should have to put up with Grayson Gabor’s attitude. And frankly, it sucked.

  Chapter 4

  “You’re such an ass, Gypsy.”

  Tamera glared at him, just before she stormed past him, her nicely curved ass looking a bit too good in her skintight jeans, and reentered his old bedroom. Good. He was much better at pissing her off anyway. No way in hell was he following her. At the moment, with his anger hitting a high note and his hunger gnawing at his gut, he didn’t trust himself within fifty feet of her.

  “I must say she has a point, Gypsy.”

  “Go to hell, Blondy. I certainly don’t need grief from you too.”

  He chuckled, not offended in the least, before he placed his empty rocks glass back on the bar top and headed for the front of the clubhouse.

  “Where the hell are you going? I don’t recall Viper and Hawk requesting your company.” At least Anton hadn’t planned on comforting Tamera … for now. One thing Grayson had going for him this day. “I believe we were told to take Ryder to your farmhouse.”

  Moments earlier, Kane and Kaleb had followed Cara out the door. While she was meeting up with her partner, Hernandez, the twins were heading straight for Bookings. They couldn’t risk someone getting to the boat before them. The captain would likely be fish food before the sun rose and the cops hit the scene.

  “Nope.” Anton turned at the door and smiled. “This is your mess, Gypsy. Have at it. I’ve had enough action for one day.”

  Without waiting for a retort from Grayson, he walked out the door. The sound of his Harley rumbled to life, then quickly faded into the distance. Suzi had fed earlier from one of the donors Draven had brought to the clubhouse before waddling back to bed, leaving him with Ryder thrashing about in the midst of his pain. Draven and his four donors lounged around the bar area, remaining thankfully silent. He didn’t need more drama at the moment. He just needed communion. The petite blond who had fed Tamera was out, along with the leggy brunette who had nourished Kaleb’s pregnant mate. That left a plump little blonde with size double Ds, and a tall curvy woman with red streaked hair, who normally might be to Grayson’s liking. Not today. As a matter of fact, Grayson hadn’t fed from a redhead since being saddled with Tamera.

  “You.” He crooked a finger at double D. “I need communion.”

  She must’ve been fairly new to the donor society because Grayson didn’t recognize her, that and she looked about ready to pass out. Draven placed a hand on her shoulder and gave her a little push in Grayson’s direction. Great, a bona fide newbie.

  Just as she came within biting distance, she stalled. Her every limb quaked and sweat beaded her upper lip. The red vial of blood dangled in the hollow point of her throat, raising slightly and falling with each shallow breath she took. She looked more nervous than a virgin in a room full of ex-cons.

  Grayson quirked a brow upward. “First time?”

  She nodded, looking very much on the verge of tears.

  “I suppose someone has to break in the virgins.” He leveled his gaze on the barkeep. “I owe you, shithead.”

  Draven smiled, then held up his glass of whiskey and winked. “You could’ve picked, India.” He pointed his thumb at the warm, chocolate skinned woman with waist length, straight black hair. She had deep red highlight streaks running through the silky looking strands. Though not a redhead like Tamera, just enough of a reminder. No, thank you.

  Grayson’s attention back on the short blonde, he asked, “You ready, sweetheart? It will only hurt for a second. I promise.”

  She nodded again. He placed his large palm to the side of her head, then gently tilted it to expose her carotid. His gums ached as his fangs elongated. The rich smell of her blood pumping rapidly through her veins wafted to his nose. He inhaled deeply, loving the scent calling to him like smooth whiskey. His eyes heated, telling him they morphed into their obsidian glass-like state. Double D’s eyes widened, unable to look away from his changing face. Pure horror laced her gaze. Grayson bet if he uttered the word “Boo,” she’d make a run for the door and never look back. Normally, he might growl, let the donor know the Sons were to be respected and their secret kept safe. But this one? This one looked as if she might just piss her pants if he did.

  Fear leaked from her pores, mixing with the scent of her rich blood. He couldn’t help wonder who sponsored this donor. Draven had always been very selective in who he allowed into the society. Most new donors were nervous. But damn! This one was downright shaking in her thigh-high hooker boots, which seemed to be cutting off the circulation to her legs.

  “What’s your name, doll?” he asked, hoping to calm some of her fears.

  Her pink tongue swept her lower lip before she replied. “Ivy.”

  “Well, Ivy, I’m about to be your first vamp.” He smoothed a finger down the side of her exposed neck. “I promise to be gentle. After the initial sting, trust me, you’re going to like what comes next. You ready?”

  Again she licked a very full set of pink lips. “Ready,” she said.

  Grayson opened his mouth, traced a path up her neck with his tongue, earning himself a shiver from her. He could smell a slight rise in her desire. Perfect. He had hoped to distract her from the coming sting. Not giving her time to think about what he was about to do, he sank his fangs deep into her neck. Her sharp intake of air told him it had stung. Her following moan proved his earlier assessment correct. She definitely liked what followed the bite. Her sweet blood flowed freely, the taste dark and heady like a dark red glass of wine, the metallic tinge but
an afterthought. Ivy’s knees weakened. Grayson’s grip around her waist tightened to keep her from puddling to the floor as her craving rose. She was deep in the throes of passion from his vampire’s kiss. Had Grayson wanted to, he could have easily bent her over the chair and satisfied his own sexual needs, getting no argument from her. Hell, she was but a hairbreadth away from an orgasm if her breathing and moans were any indication.

  One hand rested on his bare chest, while the other slid down his abs to the front of his leathers to his semi-hardened dick. Not that Ivy had a lot to do with it, feeding did as much. But just his damn luck, Tamera picked that moment to return to the living area. There he stood with the curvy blonde in his arms, one arm around the small of her back, the other at her nape. But that wasn’t where Tamera’s gaze went. Her eyes lit on the hand smoothing over his nearly rigid cock.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Tamera looked like a crazed vampire, all black-glassy eyed with fangs fully extended. If the poor woman didn’t fear vampires before, she sure as the hell would now.

  Grayson withdrew his fangs, quickly licked the wound to speed the healing, then helped steady Ivy before releasing her. The poor blonde’s eyes widened as she stepped back toward Draven and the bar, as if he might protect her from the pissed off vamp pointing her finger at her. Ivy’s hands extended palm out in defense. She opened her mouth, but nothing more uttered forth than a mere squeak.

  Draven tucked Ivy behind him. “Calm down, Tamera. Gypsy was just drinking his fill. You know how it can be a sexual experience for a donor. It’s Ivy’s first time. Cut her some slack.”

  Tamera grit her teeth, her obsidian gaze boring into the blonde. “Then you better teach her some manners, Draven. I catch her hands on my man’s dick again, I’ll drain her.”

  “Yours?” Grayson damn near chuckled. But given the situation, he thought it best for Ivy if he didn’t push his mate over the edge. “I don’t believe I made that decision yet, Tamera.”

  “Until you do, I consider you mine, Gypsy. You best keep that in mind the next time you allow a donor to grope you.” She turned to Draven. “And you. You might want to pass along the word. I don’t share.”