She had outlived her usefulness. Rosalee’s words rang loud and clear.
Grayson wanted nothing more to do with her. Tamera couldn’t even say she blamed him. She had set out to deceive him, and accomplished him claiming her as his mate. Tamera had a taste of what her life could’ve been had it not been for the untimely texts sent from Rosalee.
Grayson hated her.
He had tossed her out and she couldn’t blame him.
Maybe Rosalee taking her head would be akin to doing her a favor.
The sooner the witch caught up with her, the quicker her pain ended. Tamera didn’t want to live her life knowing what could have been. The last few days had been pure, mated bliss. Had she only been able to confess, tell Grayson of Rosalee’s plan before he had found out on his own, maybe then he would have been able to forgive her and come up with some sort of plan to get rid of Rosalee together.
Hot tears rolled down her face as she pounded on the door once more, ready to rip the thing from its hinges. Luckily, she hadn’t had to use force to gain entrance as the door finally opened with a bleary-eyed Draven on the other side.
“What in the world has you pounding the fuck out of my door? Why not use the front entrance like everyone else?” the barkeep grumbled.
Tamera stepped around him, looking back once to verify she hadn’t been followed by the wicked witch. The last thing she needed was to involve Draven knee-deep in her shit. He quickly slammed the door behind them, encasing them both in the blackness of the room. Tamera easily navigated the back room with her vampire vision, heading for the orange and brown plaid sofa in the corner of the room. She curled up in the corner, wrapping her arms about her knees.
Draven reached for the lamp and turned the switch. The light lent a soft warm glow to the room. She obviously had him at a loss. He stood silently by her side, waiting for her to elaborate on why she had shown up at his back door acting like a psycho and sobbing like a fool.
Tamera slowly lifted her head. “I need a place to stay, Draven. Can I use your sofa bed for a night or two?”
He sat on the edge of the couch, his hand touching her knee. “You want to tell me about it?”
“I fucked up.”
“Gypsy? Did he hurt you?”
She shook her head. “He would never. I’m afraid it’s all my fault.”
Draven’s look of concern damn near had her sobbing all over. “Is there anything I can do?”
Tamera swiped her hand beneath her nose. “Don’t tell anyone I’m here.”
One side of his lips curved up. “Doll, I won’t have to tell them. Any of the Sons will smell you.”
“Shit. Maybe I should have gone to my Uncle Lyle’s, but I didn’t want him in the middle of my mess.”
Draven sat back, took the top hat from his head and placed it on the sofa arm before running a hand through his long black hair. “Misery loves company. You can stay.”
“What will you tell Gypsy if he finds out I’m here?”
He shrugged. “It’s my place. I’m allowed to give refuge to any who seek it.”
“I promise I’ll only be here a day or two at most.”
“Stay as long as you need.” He gave her knee a squeeze. “Maybe Gypsy will come to his senses.”
Tamera snorted. “I doubt it, not that I even deserve it.”
“Viper, Hawk and their mates are here.” His finger pointed toward the ceiling. “They and baby Stefan are in the room upstairs. Do I need to let them know you’re here?”
“No. Until they see Gypsy, they don’t know. Me being here won’t surprise them. Gypsy and I had planned to feed, that is until everything went south.”
“You need a donor?”
Tamera wiped her eyes. “Later. Maybe when the Sons have cleared. For now, I think it’s best if I stay out of sight.”
“Do you mind if I ask what happened?”
New tears sprung to her eyes. Draven reached out and pulled her into the crook of his shoulder and kissed the top of her head. Long moments later, she sat back and licked her lips, tasting the salt of her tears. Drying her eyes, she looked up at Draven and told him the entire sordid tale. When she was finished, he pulled her back into the warmth of his embrace, whispering against her hair that things would all work out.
Tamera knew better.
There would be no happy endings.
The question now was, how many hours or days did she have left?
* * *
Grayson paced the small front room of the clubhouse. His ire rose off him in waves. He could hardly stand still for the desire to destroy shit. He wasn’t sure if he could ever forgive Tamera for her deception. Rosalee would obviously stop at nothing to get Kane back. Her plan had no doubt meant to take out anyone standing in her way, starting with Cara. Merda! Rosalee would stop at nothing to get her way.
The primordial bitch needed to pay with her life.
Enough was enough.
He no longer cared about some ancient rule forbidding them from killing one of the originals. She had caused more than her share of havoc. It was time for Grayson to play judge, jury and executioner. Let Mircea take his head. He no longer cared. The bitch had to be stopped. If no one else was willing to do a damn thing about her, then he’d gladly step up to the plate.
Kane had been through enough pain, losing his only son because of her. It was time for him to live in peace with Cara, no longer having to look over his shoulder or worry what his evil ex might do next. No more lives need be lost because of her misguided need for revenge. Grayson would gladly sacrifice himself if it meant taking the bitch with him. Hell, at this point it didn’t much matter if he lived or died. It seemed he had finally found his equal, someone he could spend his days showing her the depth of his love, all to have it yanked away because she had duped him, listened to Rosalee and became her little puppet.
His heart ached, as if an invisible hand squeezed the caring right from his chest.
Merda, had he acted in haste? Even as pissed off as he was at Tamera, he found he couldn’t truly hate her. The love he found far outweighed his anger. Grayson ran a hand through his hair and cursed.
Maybe, he should’ve given her the chance to explain.
He knew how pretty Rosalee could paint things to get her way. Tamera had been but a babe as a donor. She hadn’t yet fully understood the whats and the why-nots. She saw her opportunity for immortality and went for it. Truth be told, had she not taken the dangling carrot, he wouldn’t have given her much more thought than a roll in the sack as he had pretty much blinded himself to the possibility of ever loving one woman.
Hanging his head, hands on hip, he cast his gaze to the floor.
He had it bad for the redhead. Like it or not, and regardless of her idiocy, he loved her. The whole fucking package. Her deception hadn’t changed the fact she had turned his life upside down. His memories of the beach house brought up a smile. She had been beautiful, sexy, and a hell of a lot of fun. He thought of the two sizes too small bikini she had found hanging in the closet. He had damn near swallowed his tongue when she had stepped on the beach wearing the next to nothing scrap of material.
Talk about an instant hard-on.
Teaching her to surf had been short of amazing. Grayson hadn’t thought he’d ever find a woman, let alone a vampire, who would love the beach as much as he did. She had fumbled a few times, but kept trying until she took to the board like a semi-pro. He had to admit, seeing her standing on the funboard had tripped him up. If he hadn’t been teetering on falling in love with her before that moment, watching her surf had helped him tip over the edge.
“You are fucking idiot,” Grayson grumbled.
Once he took care of Rosalee, and if he walked away with his life, then he needed to ask Tamera to forgive him for being a fool. When he had petitioned Vlad to take her as his mate, it had been for all eternity, the good, the bad, and yes … the ugly.
The heavy weight lifted off Grayson’s heart. He brushed back his newly shorn hair. H
e’d need to make sure he walked away from his execution of Rosalee, because he damn sure wasn’t ready to give up the life he started with Tamera.
The door to the clubhouse opened and Kaleb strode in, carrying his son, followed by his mate. Grayson could easily imagine having a son of his own with flaming red hair. Maybe he’d even suggest as much once he convinced Tamera to take up his bed again.
Stefan let out a small cry as Kaleb handed him to Suzi, then leaning down and taking her lips. He patted her on the ass as she headed for their shared room. He took one look at Grayson, knowing something had happened. He kissed her temple. “Babe, let me talk to Gypsy. I’ll be to bed in a sec.”
“Take your time.” She smiled. Wrapping her arms more fully around Stefan, she closed the door softly behind her.
“What’s happened, Gypsy? Talk to me.”
Grayson walked over to the bar and braced his hands on the wooden surface. “We got a problem, dude.”
Kaleb took a seat on one of the stools as Grayson filled him in on Rosalee’s deception and how she had used Tamera for her gain. Right down to the fact if she hadn’t followed Rosalee’s lead, she threatened to harm Stefan.
“I will fucking kill the bitch if she thinks to touch another Tepes,” Kaleb growled.
“I plan to fucking take Rosalee’s life myself. She caused this club enough problems.”
“As much as I’d love that, you know you cannot kill her. If that were possible, I would’ve done so myself when she kidnapped Suzi. Vlad will never allow any of us to hurt her.”
“I don’t give a fuck what Vlad or Mircea says.” Grayson grit his teeth. “She’s been on borrowed time, Hawk. It’s time she checks out.”
“Who are we taking out?” Kane asked as he and Cara entered the clubhouse.
Grayson quickly filled them in, repeating the story once again. Every time he told the tail his desire to rip Rosalee’s head from her shoulders renewed. Not to mention his feeling like as ass for the way he had handled Tamera increased. Sure she deserved his anger, but not his dismissal.
“Hell, I don’t even know where Tamera is,” Grayson finished, feeling much the heel. “I was such a fucking jerk to her.”
“So you finally admit it?” Cara chuckled. She winked at Grayson. “She was at the Rave, brat. I believe she was in Draven’s backroom.”
“How do you know, mia bella?” Kane asked, his hand resting in the small of her back. “I didn’t see her or Draven.”
“When you guys came downstairs and headed for the front of the club, I stopped by the bar to talk to India. I detected Tamera’s scent, coming from the back of the club. I didn’t think anything about it at the time, I thought she was there to feed.”
Some of the weight on his heart lifted, knowing Tamera had found someplace semi-safe to go. He hoped he found Rosalee before she discovered where Tamera had gone.
“What are you going to do, Gypsy?” Cara asked. “You have to go after her. If Viper and I can forgive her for allowing Rosalee to deceive her, then you should be able to. Rosalee is a manipulative bitch.”
“I’m with Hawk on this, Gypsy. You can’t touch Rosalee.” Kane took a bottle of whiskey down and poured himself a shot. “No matter how much I’d like the honors of taking her out, it would mean sealing your own fate. Rules are rules, man. I’ll go to my grandfather. Let him decide her fate.”
“The bitch dies, Viper.” Grayson growled. “Vlad would likely do as he did before and send her ass back to Italy and her worthless stepfather.”
Just as Kane opened his mouth to retort, Cara’s cell rang. She pressed the green answer button on the smartphone and placed it to her ear. Grayson couldn’t help but hear the conversation as Cara’s lips turned down and tears filled her eyes. Kane walked up behind her, his arms circling her waist and drawing her back against him.
She ended the call and looked back at Kane, tears slipping down her cheeks. “They took Grandpa to the hospital. They said he wasn’t responding. His blood pressure had dropped overnight and his heart rate’s up. The nurse said he had been confused just before he went to bed. I’m supposed to meet them at the emergency room.”
Kane looked at Grayson. “I have to go with Cara. Do not fucking do anything about Rosalee until I get back. I mean it, Gypsy. That’s a fucking order.”
Grayson steeled his jaw. He couldn’t promise Kane. Because if he found Rosalee before the past P petitioned his grandfather, he was taking her fucking head.
Chapter 27
The gray skies hung heavy with the threat of rain. Perfect. The day was as dismal as his mood. Ever since he had sent Kimber away, his heart lay heavy in his chest. Hell, Anton wasn’t even sure why, other than the crestfallen look on her face right before she headed from his home. She had tried her best to look pissed, as if he hadn’t hurt her, but he didn’t miss the split second before she turned. Lord in Heaven, he was officially a jackass.
He leaned against the side of the brick building, resting his foot against the side of the building. The smell of smoke hung heavy in the air as he stood outside with several of his new MC brothers. They shared raunchy jokes and smoked a lot of cigarettes. The Devils were a rude and crude bunch. Some of the guys he found not to be bad men, for the most part. Then there were their counterparts who were totally unredeemable. Those fucks wouldn’t be missed should they be wiped off the face of the planet, and he would be all too happy to see that happen. They were pieces of shit who would rob your grandmother, rape your daughter, then stand around and shoot the shit as if nothing bothered them.
Yeah, Anton would love to send those fucks to an early grave.
Hades’ Nest crawled with Devils as an impromptu meeting had been called. Anton had to fly down coastal Highway 101 just to get to Santa Barbara in time. He had rented an apartment, not far from the new hangout, but since he had been just outside of Florence when he had been informed of the meeting, he had to burn rubber to get there.
Anton had no idea what the hell was up, or why they had all been called to gather. He had yet to spot the club P or VP. Maybe once the two arrived, they’d learn the reason they stood around like cattle called to pasture.
Two chopper motors cut through the rude laughter. Silence fell over the gathering crowd. Apparently, everyone else was as curious as he was. The dirty-blond haired biker, known as Spider, rounded the corner on his bike next to a stocky, black-haired man named Tank. He certainly was built like one, and his demeanor spoke no nonsense. Anton could see why he was the club P. Most of the boys damn near peed their pants when the muscular man came around. He reminded Anton of the rock star Danzig, with a look just as evil.
Tank was one of guy Anton wouldn’t mind sending to a watery grave. The stories he heard told by some of the MC members were dastardly and not worth repeating. The man had no conscience.
Anton’s hearing picked up the sound of a third motorcycle well before he saw it. He squinted to see who followed closely behind the P and VP. Whoever it was, Anton had a feeling he might be the reason for the called meeting. Red flames painted the side of the black custom tank. He’d recognize the bike anywhere. The Blood ‘n’ Rave’s barkeep came into view. Time for Draven to find out Anton had switched sides.
Cara hadn’t let the barkeep in on the fact Anton would be working undercover with him. Someone needed to protect his scrawny ass. She hadn’t trusted Draven not to give up Anton’s cover. Anton had to be believed. The only three who knew he had gone deep under were Cara, Kane, and her partner, Hernandez. Even Kaleb had been kept out of the loop. All hell would break loose once the rest of the Sons found out he switched sides.
The three of them pulled up and parked their rides, stepping over the seats. Anton could feel the minute Draven’s eyes landed on him. He slowly brought up his gaze from the gravel at his feet, a sardonic smile pasted upon his lips. “Hello, Draven.”
“What the fuck?” His eyes darted among the Devils, most chuckling at the barkeep’s reaction. “What the hell are you doing here, Blondy?”
The dirty-haired Spider walked over to Anton and cuffed his shoulder. “Hell, Draven, he’s one of us now. He spit on the Sons.”
“That true, Blondy?”
Anton detected the disgust rolling off Draven, hoping no one else did. “There’s something you should know, Draven. Fucking Blondy? He’s dead. Gypsy’s so far up Viper and Hawk’s ass, they gave my woman to the fuck. They petitioned the old man. Fuck them. Fuck Gypsy, and fuck his old lady.”
“Rogue is one of us.” Spider cackled as he slapped Anton on the shoulder again. Anton wanted to beat the shit to a pulp for daring to touch him.
“That true, Blondy?”
Anton nodded, the evil smile widening on his face. “The name’s Rogue, ass wipe.”
* * *
“What the fuck?” Draven said when he walked into the meeting he had called.
Cara wanted his head. He ought to know better. They certainly didn’t want to blow his cover because the barkeep got nervous. Not that she could blame him. Seeing Anton at his meeting with the Devils had to be quite the shock. Cara couldn’t chance it any other way. So, she knew this call would come at some point. The fewer people who knew about Anton, the better off they were and the safer he stayed. Hell, she hadn’t even told Kane’s twin. They needed real reactions. One wrong move could mean Anton and Draven’s death.
These boys didn’t play nice.
She had to leave the hospital, where she had been keeping a close vigil on her grandfather. Unfortunately, his condition hadn’t improved. He had gone into septic shock. The ER doctor had ordered a mechanical ventilator. So far, though, he was holding his own and his condition hadn’t worsened. Kane stayed by his side while she dealt with Draven, which made her more than annoyed with the barkeep’s timing.
Standing in the back room of the Rave, she crossed her arms and glared at the focus of her disgruntled mood. “What the hell, Draven? You want to get caught?”
“I needed to see you.” Draven damn near danced with his news. “It couldn’t wait. You won’t believe this.”
Gypsy: Sons of Sangue Page 29