Rogue (Sons of Sangue Book 4)

by Patricia A. Rasey

  Movement below caught his attention. He was far enough away that he’d be hard to detect up on the hill. A woman exited through the rear door of the house, carrying a small bundle in her arms. The sun’s rays reflected off her long red hair, reminding him of the fiery woman beneath it. Tamera Cantrell. What would she be doing here? Anton sniffed the air, trying to detect her scent, but with the ocean breeze he couldn’t catch anything other than the salty air. Shortly thereafter, a man with dark brown hair reaching his shoulder blades, followed her onto the sand.

  Couldn’t be.

  What the hell were they doing this far up the coast?

  Grayson turned his head and looked in Anton’s direction, causing him to scoot a few inches back from his perch. After a few seconds, the vampire turned his attention back to his mate, then took the squirming bundle from her arms. Jesus! Grayson Gabor was a father. His heart clenched. He watched the loving scene before him. He had made Cara and Kane promise to keep club business to themselves. Anton thought it might be painful to hear updates of his brothers and not share in their lives, just such proof below. Having missed the birth of Grayson’s firstborn stung. He had given up too much.

  They walked to the water’s edge, too far for Anton to detect their conversation. Whatever Grayson said, a large smile appeared on Tamera’s lips before she laughed and ran into the surf. Grayson chuckled in return, all the while cuddling the small infant in his arms. From Anton’s view point, Grayson never looked happier as he watched his mate play in the ocean. She reached down and splashed water in his direction. Not enough to soak the babe in his arms, but enough to wet his shins. Grayson nodded at her, his lips moved, and Tamera laughed.

  The two portrayed the picture of the perfect family.

  Although Anton was certainly happy for his brother and one-time best friend, jealousy ate at his gut. He wasn’t sure if he were more envious at Grayson for having won the woman he had one time wanted, or more so of the fact Grayson had the life he at one time envisioned for himself. Either way, he didn’t begrudge Grayson. Tamera had taken Grayson’s blood without his permission, thus securing herself as his mate. At the time, not a soul, him included, knew Tamera had been duped and used by Rosalee. Grayson had one hell of a chip on his shoulder and a lot of hurt to overcome.

  Seeing him happy now, regardless of Anton’s envy, his heart warmed with the knowledge Grayson and Tamera had found their peace. Rosalee, Kane’s bitch of an ex-mate, had thankfully found her end by the hands of Kane and Kaleb Tepes’s grandfather, Vlad. Rosalee had almost wrecked the love Gypsy and Tamera now obviously share. The man deserved nothing short of a medal for taking the woman’s head. She deserved death and nothing less for all her deceit and misdeeds against the Sons.

  Good riddance.

  Not a single soul would miss the likes of the witch, other than maybe her stepdaddy, Mircea. Anton was sure Vlad would effectively handle his brother. He had done nothing more than take care of the problem Mircea should have months earlier. Rosalee had been living on borrowed time. Mircea’s stepdaughter had been the cause of Kane and her son’s death. The woman was evil and vindictive. Yet he allowed her to run roughshod over him. Talk about a spoiled brat.

  Rosalee had written the book.

  Movement below caught his attention again, and Tamera emerged from the surf, her tiny bikini hugging her curves. Anton had the urge to look away, feeling as if he had no right to see her. It occurred to him, as little as she wore and as she gorgeous as she was, he didn’t feel even an inkling of lust … not the way he had with Kimber the night before.

  Christ, if he spotted Kimber wearing the tiny scraps of material barely covering Tamera, he’d be using his body to shield her from view. Who the fuck was he kidding? He’d be stripping her of it and burying his cock to the hilt. Just the thought had his cock semi erect, when moments ago Tamera had hardly gained his interest.

  A smile crossed his face.

  He was no longer jealous of Grayson for having won Tamera. He might be jealous of the family he had created, but no longer the woman. Tamera walked to where Grayson stood, holding the baby. They shared a laugh, just before Grayson lowered his head and kissed his mate. Anyone could see the love the pair shared for each other. He never thought he’d see the day Grayson would be happy with just one woman. And yet the smile he saw upon his friend’s face as he looked at Tamera spoke volumes.

  Grayson tucked the baby to his side, placed one arm across Tamera’s shoulders, and led her back to the beach house. Just before they disappeared from site, Grayson reached down and playfully swatted his mate’s ass.

  Tamera Cantrell had chosen the right man.

  Now if he could just figure out what to do about his little librarian. Oh, he knew what he wanted to do with her. No doubt about it. But anything more was forbidden. Without the consent of the Sons, human relationships were off-limits. Since he technically wasn’t a Son at the moment, he wouldn’t be petitioning them any time soon. Not that Kimber would want anything to do with his vampire self. Anton sighed heavily. Not to mention he was still neck deep in with the Devils and the cartel.

  He stood, brushed off the seat of his jeans, and headed for his truck. He still had a few days of R&R left. Now to figure out what the hell to do with them since entertaining Kimber wasn’t an option.

  * * *

  The warm summer breeze ruffled her hair and tickled her flesh. Kimber sat on the whitewashed front porch of her country style home, enjoying the early Sunday afternoon. Twin white rockers she had restored from her grandmother’s estate, flanked an oval, glass-topped, wicker table. The chairs were all Kimber had left of the gentle woman who had passed away nearly two years ago. Her grandmother had lived a pretty simple life. Some of Kimber’s fondest memories were of her sitting in one of the rockers while knitting scarves. She could remember rocking in them as a kid, eating homemade treats from her grandmother’s kitchen. When her mother had asked her what she wanted from the estate, it was a no-brainer for Kimber.

  The floorboards creaked as she slowly rocked, a glass of unsweetened tea in her hand. She couldn’t have asked for a better day to sit on her veranda and enjoy the quietude. Sundays had always been her favorite day of the week. Not only was it her one given day off from work, but it also meant dinner with her parents. Kimber hadn’t missed one of those meals since buying a place of her own.

  She had always been close to them, trying her best to fill the void left by her brother. Nick had left Oregon behind at the age of eighteen when he attended college in Ohio. Having gotten a job in Cleveland, he and his family made their home in Lakewood. He visited at Christmas time and, if they were lucky, a few days out of the summer. Kimber was a couple of years his senior, but he was already married with one child and another one on the way. Kimber was certain her mother wondered if they’d ever get grandchildren from her, but at twenty-eight, she had plenty of time to do the whole family thing.

  At least that’s what she had told herself. Daily in fact. Every time she looked in the mirror and found a new wrinkle had sprouted in the corner of her eyes or the laugh lines by her mouth seemed somehow deeper. She’d prefer to think she got them from having a happy life. Kimber tried to focus on the positives, rather than the negatives. To her, the glass was always half full. Her coworkers made her days go by quickly and never failed to make her laugh, and her job provided her with plenty of books to read. She had parents who loved her, and a house to call her own. Kimber had managed to make a good life for herself.

  Who was she to complain?

  Taking a pull from her tea glass, the liquid cooled her. There wasn’t much she lacked for in life. She worried her lower lip. Except for someone to share it with. She wanted the kind of relationship her parents had shared the last thirty-five years. Her father still opened doors for her mother, waited on her hand and foot. Having a man like her father would definitely be a welcomed addition. Not that she needed a man. No, she had done quite well without one. Although having one to come home to would certain
ly be nice, someone who could fill the second porch rocker.

  A year ago she had allowed herself to envision Anton filling that role. Wishful thinking. Kimber took another sip from her tea. A man like Anton would never settle for someone like her. Women no doubt clamored for his attention. Women with a lot more experience between the sheets and a hell of a lot more exciting than her.

  A frown turned down her lips.

  She hoped she hadn’t embarrassed herself the one night she foolishly allowed the notion he might be interested in someone like her. She was a librarian, for heaven’s sakes. Head librarian, she reminded herself. How much more lame could she get in his eyes?

  Apparently, not as lame as she might think. She hadn’t mistaken his erection last night at the club. The impressive bulge in his jeans had been a bit hard to miss. Kimber sighed heavily. She needn’t flatter herself. After all, he had just been entertaining a dark-haired, attractive woman moments before.

  No matter how hot or sexy as hell he might be didn’t change the fact he was all kinds of wrong for her. He ran with murderers, drug runners, and thugs. She had watched the Discovery Channel documentaries on outlaw motorcycle gangs. Most hid under the guise of good deeds, when in reality they were nothing more than organized criminals. The federal government had repeatedly prosecuted various outlaw biker club members under the RICO, Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations, Act. These men lived under the scrutiny of the law.

  Kimber gazed into the distance, wondering if she had known Anton wore colors before she had slept with him, if that would have mattered at the time. She hadn’t exactly been thinking straight. The fact a man like Anton was interested in her had a heady effect on her libido.

  An engine rumbled in the distance. She caught sight of a pale green and white truck making its way down the one-lane county road. Her heart tripped. Though Anton road his motorcycle most days, she knew he also owned the older style pickup. The Ford slowed as the vehicle approached her drive.

  Her breath caught in her throat. She willed Anton to keep moving on down the road, not wanting to exchange words with him yet again. No such luck. The truck shifted gears and pulled into her drive, much to her discontent. His piercing blue gaze landed on her from behind the windshield as the truck rolled to a stop and he killed the engine. Alighting from the cab, his long legs closed the distance. He took the stairs with ease, coming within inches of her.

  Kimber used her hand to shield her eyes from the bright afternoon sun. She looked up at her impossibly tall and arrogant neighbor, still trying to get accustomed to the new look. It didn’t detract from him by any means, just added a dangerous edge. Her tongue stuck to her mouth, leaving her at a loss for words. Damn if he didn’t look somehow sexier in the full light of day. His blue gaze rimmed black, bearing down on her. Kimber didn’t miss the blatant interest she saw in their depths.

  She cleared her throat and raised her glass of tea. “I’d offer you some tea, but you aren’t staying if you’re just here to lecture me on my choice of bars again.”

  “Not funny, Kimber.” His deep voice warmed her from the tip of her toes to the top of her head. And she thought the afternoon was warm before Anton arrived. The temperature rose about ten degrees as he stepped onto her porch. “I was serious when I told you to stay away from the Rave.”

  “I didn’t need your permission last night any more than I do today.”

  Anton crossed the white wood planks and took the rocker on the far side of the table, where he sat and looked across her well-manicured lawn. “I was a bit of an ass last night.”

  She nodded, finding humor in his need to apologize. She bet he didn’t eat crow often. Kimber hid her smile. “You were.”

  “Seeing Wolf’s big paw on you brought out my bad side.”

  “Why would you care?”

  He bowed his dark head and looked to the porch at his feet, clasping his hands between his knees. “Because I know my brothers. Shit. I meant that in the past tense.”

  “Brothers?”

  “I was a member of the Sons of Sangue before I became a Devil.”

  “Are they any worse than you?” She placed her tea glass on the table separating them to keep from beaning him with it. “You both wear motorcycle colors. What makes you a better choice?”

  “I never said I was. As I recall, I told you that you should stay away from me.”

  “You did. And yet, here you sit on my porch,” she pointed out. “I didn’t invite you. Maybe I need to tell you to stay away from me.”

  He shrugged his large shoulders, stretching his white tee across his broad back. “You should.”

  “So then what brings you by, Anton? A social call?”

  Anton glanced up, his gaze holding hers momentarily before looking back into the distance. Kimber detected a bit of sadness within the blue depths before he turned away. She couldn’t help wonder who put it there.

  “You want to talk about it?”

  She had always been good at reading people and knew something troubled him. Kimber wondered how much she should pry, or if she should chalk it up as none of her business.

  “There’s nothing to talk about, tesoro.” Anton cleared his throat, before giving her his gaze again. “Wolf is not the type of person you should spend time with.”

  “I wasn’t. As you recall, I chose a different dance partner.”

  His full lips thinned. “I don’t believe the young punk grinding on you last night was much better.”

  “What do you want from me, Anton? I’m not yours to order around. You can’t come here and think you can tell me what to do or who I can see.”

  He took in a deep breath. “No, you aren’t mine.”

  “This conversation is over. You want a friend? Fine. Stop by anytime. I always have fresh brewed tea. You want coffee? I’ll stock it. We can sit across the table and we can talk about the weather, if that’s what you want. But my personal life?” She leveled him with a glare. “That’s off-limits. If I choose to date Wolf, or the other guy at the bar for that matter, then as my friend you need to learn to support my decision.”

  “Like hell I do.”

  “Not up for discussion, Anton. Take it or leave it.”

  “You aren’t giving me another choice?”

  Kimber shook her head and chuckled. “Exactly what other option do you want? I refuse to be your part-time stop when you need to get laid. I don’t do friends with benefits well. Call me old-fashioned.”

  One brow raised. “And you think Wolf or Xander would offer you more?”

  “Out of context. I was only using them as an example. Honestly, I don’t think you or the other two are worth my time.”

  Anton snorted, but didn’t bother disputing her. “What about the other punk at the bar?”

  “If it makes you feel better, he’s not my type either.”

  He braced his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. “Who is your type, tesoro?”

  Kimber bit her tongue to keep from saying you. The look in his eyes seemed almost hopeful. Surely, just wishful thinking on her part. “When I find him, I’ll let you know.”

  His answering smile reached his gaze. “You be sure to do that.”

  She held up her glass again. “Tea?”

  “No thanks. But maybe I’ll be back for that chitchat with my friend soon.”

  “I’ll look forward to it.”

  As she watched his truck back down the driveway and head in the direction of his house, Kimber couldn’t help but wonder what had she been thinking. Having Anton around as a friend was akin to putting a diabetic in a room full of candy. Why was it the things that were bad for you were always the things you wanted most?

  She blew out a stream of air through pursed lips. Yep, she was about to regret inviting him back into the friend zone.

  Chapter 5

  The day turned out to be an unseasonably warm one. Hell, even on the back of his Fat Bob, he wasn’t getting much release from the heat of the midday sun as sweat trickled down hi
s spine. Kane parked his bike to the left side of the door, cut the engine, and stepped over the back of it. He quickly unsnapped his helmet and placed it on the brown leather seat. Using his forearm, he swiped the sweat from his brow and headed for the clubhouse. Irritation clawed up his spine for having been called for an impromptu meeting. He supposed his sour mood might have had something to do with being awaken and forced to leave Cara’s side in their darkened, air-conditioned bedroom.

  He would have much preferred to stay in bed and take advantage of his mate, who had the day off. Instead he had received a phone call from his twin. Kane couldn’t help wonder what Kaleb “Hawk” Tepes wanted so last-minute. Kaleb, president of the Sons, had told him to come alone and that it wasn’t an open meeting, meaning his brother wanted a one-on-one. He hoped that didn’t mean he had found out about Anton’s undercover work. No doubt he’d be mad as hell for being left out of the loop, but Cara was adamant the fewer who knew about their involvement and helping the DEA, the safer Anton and Draven would be.

  Kane hadn’t agreed about keeping Kaleb out of the loop, but Kane wasn’t the one calling the shots. The police work was better left to his wife and her partner, Joe Hernandez. He didn’t always see eye-to-eye with her partner, but Kane couldn’t keep her in his sights 24/7 and he knew Hernandez had Cara’s back. Joe seemed to care a great deal for Cara, despite their differences where Kane came into the picture.

  He opened the door to the clubhouse, spotting Ryder and Alexander lounging on the sofas, a six-pack of long necks half gone on the scarred wooden center table. Ryder had taken over Kane and Cara’s old room when they had moved out a little over a year ago. Alexander had claimed Grayson and Tamera’s old room, when the two had moved to the beach house following the birth of their son. The house had been owned by one of Grayson’s friends, who had moved farther south along the coast, selling the place to Grayson. Kaleb and Suzi still resided in the clubhouse, but Kane bet it wouldn’t be long before they looked for a place of their own. Baby Stefan was growing like a weed. Kane figured Suzi and Kaleb would want to keep Stefan away from the MC dealings often going down in the clubhouse. It wasn’t exactly an ideal place to bring up a child.