Rogue (Sons of Sangue Book 4)

by Patricia A. Rasey

Damn, she knew more than she should for someone not a part of the society of women he recruited. “You want to tell me how you know about them?”

  “Joseph told me if I were ever to get into trouble, I needed to come find you. That you would take care of me. He trusted you.”

  “I’m not anyone’s babysitter. Not even someone as smokin’ hot as you, sweetheart.”

  “I don’t need a babysitter.”

  Her gaze narrowed and her irises turned black. Shit! An illusion due to the low lighting to be sure. Only vampire’s eyes became obsidian in appearance. “So what do you want from me?”

  “Tell me where I can find Joseph and I’ll be on my way. He told me he was coming here. Did he go to the clubhouse?”

  Draven grimaced. “You could say that.”

  “What do you mean? He’s either there or he’s not.” She narrowed her gaze. “Something’s wrong. I can feel it. What’s happened, Draven?”

  “You might want to take a seat first.”

  “Tell me.” Her voice shook.

  “Sweetheart, before I tell you anything, I need to know how you knew Joseph.”

  “You can’t tell anyone.” Her slender legs had appeared ready to give out. She pulled out a stool and sat. When Draven nodded, she continued, “Joseph Sala is my mate.”

  “You’re a vampire.” It wasn’t a question but a statement. Her eyes had given her away, even if he had at first refused to see it.

  She leaned forward, placing her chin onto her palms, her elbows atop the bar. He could tell she was damn close to becoming a sobbing mess. “You can’t tell anyone, especially the Sons. Joseph would get into all kinds of trouble.”

  “They don’t know?” Which explained why he had never seen her before and why Joseph frequently requested donors in pairs. Here he had thought the vampire liked his women in multiples, much like Grayson Gabor had before his mate came along and turned him into a family man.

  She shook her head. “Joseph never told them. He was sure he’d never get the Sons’ permission to turn me, nor their approval of him and I being together.”

  “Why?”

  Draven was pretty sure if Joseph Sala had wanted a mate, the Sons would’ve approved unless they feared the woman would out them. After all, they had accepted Cara Brahnam, who wasn’t a part of the donor society and she was a detective for the sheriff’s office.

  “I was pretty young when we met.”

  “How young?”

  “Seventeen. And before you jump to conclusions, Joseph never touched me until five years later. And even then, I had to seduce him.”

  “You were twenty-two and Joseph was…”

  “Ninety-five.”

  “Only a couple of years difference.” Draven shook his head at the absurdity. Only a vampire would get so lucky at that age. “How did you become mated?”

  “You already know Joseph was a pretty private man.” She toyed with the chipped black polish on her fingers, keeping her gaze from his. “He hung with the Sons, but they never came to our house. That’s because of me.”

  “There would’ve been repercussions to be sure.”

  “It’s my fault.” She glanced back up. “I loved him and I couldn’t bear to be without him. I begged him to turn me. I wanted to be with him the rest of our lives.”

  “So why not go to the Sons? Ask for permission?”

  Brea took in a deep breath. “I’m a Gotti.”

  Draven rubbed his chin between his thumb and forefinger. A sense of foreboding washed over him. He was pretty sure at this point, anything more she had to say wasn’t going to be good. After all, her secret was big enough that Joseph chose to keep her and their mating from his brethren, the men he trusted with his life. Apparently not entrusting them with Brea’s.

  “And?”

  “My father and grandfather got into business with the La Paz Cartel after my Uncle John passed away.”

  Draven stepped back, every curse word he had ever learned tumbled from his lips. “Your grandfather knows Raúl Trevino Caballero?”

  She nodded. “He’s been a guest at my family home many times over the years.”

  “You’ve met him?”

  Tears fell from her lashes. “He’s my godfather.”

  He wiped a hand down his mouth and chin. “Fuck me.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “It’s a phrase.” Draven grasped the bottle of Jack and poured them each a tumbler. “I think we could both use this.”

  Brea took the offered glass to her lips and quickly downed the amber liquid. She slid the emptied tumbler toward him. “Can I please have another?”

  Draven quickly obliged. “Kinky knew all about this?”

  Again, she nodded before downing another glass full. “That’s why he never introduced me to the Sons. They wouldn’t have given us permission to mate. That or he worried they would use my connection to bring down my godfather.”

  “How long were the two of you mated?”

  “Three years.” Her lips turned down, no doubt detecting his slip for the second time in referring to Joseph and their mating in the past tense.

  “What’s happened, Draven? I can feel it in my bones. Something is not sitting right in here.” She tapped her sternum with his fingers.

  “Kinky was gunned down tonight, Brea.” He gripped her hand on top the bar. “I’m sorry. Whoever did it knew what they were doing. He didn’t stand a chance. It was a kill shot.”

  Brea’s lower lip trembled and more tears fell. “No. No…” She shook her head. Shaking fingers covered her lips. Her nose leaked. As he reached for a bar napkin she wailed, the sound cutting straight to his heart.

  Draven knew, at that moment, he would do anything to protect the slight woman. No one could know of her existence. If the Sons found out, they would no doubt mate her to one of the single vampires or prospects. Women vampires were revered. Only through them were new male vampires born into population. They were to be protected at all costs and mated. Why Draven refused to let another mate with her, he wasn’t sure. But he’d be damned if he’d allow them to use her family connections to get close to her godfather. They wanted Raúl Trevino Caballero, then they could damn well do it on their own.

  Or with his help.

  His job with the Devils and the cartel was far from over. Adding Brea into his already complicated life probably wasn’t the wisest of decisions. If Cara found out he harbored her, she’d be livid. If the Sons found out, they’d likely want his balls. If Brea found out he was working with the DEA to bring down her godfather, she’d no doubt take her chances on her own, leaving him and his fucked up mess in the dust.

  Draven would be damned before he’d leave Brea Gotti to face this on her own or allow the Sons to use her in their desire to seek revenge. Joseph Sala entrusted her care to him for a reason. He wasn’t about to let the fallen vampire down.

  No one would find out about Brea, even if he had to turn his back on the entire sting that had been set into motion over a year ago and disappear, taking her with him. Draven wasn’t about to allow harm to come to the sobbing mess before him. Walking around the bar, he pulled Brea from the stool and into his arms, smoothing a hand down her back.

  “I’m so sorry about Joseph, sweetheart, but everything will be all right,” he whispered, placing a tender kiss atop her head. “I’ll make sure of it. You and your secrets will be safe with me.”

  Chapter 8

  The cool night breeze ruffled Kimber’s crushed voile sheers, causing goose flesh to pop out along the flesh of her forearms. The fresh scent of salt air tickled her nose, the rocky Pacific coast not much more than a stone’s throw away. This far from town, she needn’t worry about leaving her windows open. Rarely did anyone travel down the one-lane road. She headed for the stairs, ready to call it a night. A late one at that. Following her mother’s regular Sunday fried chicken and twice-baked potatoes dinner, she had returned home and grabbed the latest novel of one of her favorite authors. Hours later, she found herself dozing in h
er recliner by the opened porch window, only to be awakened by the living room clock striking three. Four hours had passed and she now had a bit of kink in her neck as a result.

  Thank goodness she worked the afternoon shift the following day and didn’t have to worry about crawling out of bed at the crack of dawn. She’d pull down her room-darkening shades and sleep until noon if she pleased. Kimber had been glad for the few hours of peace and quiet, after the last couple of days she had spent in the company of her neighbor.

  She stepped onto the landing of the stairs, pulled back the curtains and glanced out the window facing Anton’s home. This late at night only blackness yawned back at her. The biker’s house sat a short distance away, completely dark. Either Anton had called it a night himself and gone to bed some time ago, or maybe he had already headed back down the coast to California.

  The latter made her heart pang.

  The thought of not seeing him for possibly months again shouldn’t bother her, but it did. More than she’d like to admit. He had looked damn fine sitting on her porch, conversing with her as if it were an everyday occurrence. She certainly wouldn’t mind his visits becoming more regular. The company had been nice, the view even better. Kimber thought maybe come morning, if Anton were still in Oregon, she’d invite him over for a little home cooking and a glass of wine or two one night this week … just as friends, of course.

  The ache settling low in her abdomen and between her thighs called her a liar. She might fool Anton, but she wasn’t kidding herself. Her brain said friend. The rest of her, though, wanted more. Kimber might not like the idea of him packing his satchels and heading south, but she couldn’t be trusted around him either. Wicked thoughts took over her fantasies. In truth, it wouldn’t take much persuasion on his part to get her naked again.

  Letting the drapes fall back into place, she headed for her master bedroom down the short hall. Knowing, for whatever reason, he also desired her wasn’t helping matters. Kimber walked through her bedroom door and flipped on the light in the en suite bathroom. The sudden illumination momentarily blinded her.

  She turned, heading for her wardrobe to fetch a pair of her silky, shorty-pajamas when she ran into a solid wall. Not dry wall, mind you, but the warm solid wall of a chest, causing her to squeal like a little schoolgirl. Her heart damn near jumped from her chest.

  Glancing up, she found Anton standing in her doorway, all six-feet-plus of him illuminated by the bathroom light. He glared down on her as if she had done something wrong when it was he who stood uninvited in her house.

  “What the heck are you doing?” Kimber placed a palm over her pounding heart. “You scared the bejesus out of me. You could’ve given me a heart attack.”

  His black gaze bore down on her. His normal vivid blue damn near nonexistent. “Do you have any idea how easy it was for me to walk in here?”

  “Break-in.” She slapped a palm against his unmovable chest. “I locked my doors, you big oaf. Please tell me I don’t have to replace a busted lock or door because you felt the need to prove a point.”

  “I wasn’t trying to prove a point.”

  “Then what in God’s name are you doing?” Kimber harrumphed. “I don’t recall extending you an invite.”

  Even though she had been entertaining the idea mere moments ago.

  “I wanted to talk.” Anton shifted in his stance, the only indication she had that he might feel a bit sheepish for entering her home.

  “So you broke in … at three in the morning.”

  His gaze narrowed. “I didn’t break anything. Your door may have been locked but your windows were open. The screens easily lift out from the outside. I’d say that’s a serious security issue.”

  “I’ll have you know, it’s never been an issue until now.” She crossed her arms beneath her chest, drawing his gaze downward. “Eyes up here, big guy.”

  Anton chuckled. “Can I help it you have great breasts?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You certainly don’t beat around the bush.”

  “Honesty is always best.”

  Not that she could argue with him. “So what brings you by for a talk at three in the morning?”

  “I drove by and your lights were on.”

  “One light.” She corrected. “And my bathroom light, to boot.”

  His blue gaze twinkled in merriment. “It still indicated you were up.”

  Kimber’s gaze flitted from his to the made bed behind him. Her heartbeat picked up again. Maybe it would be best to take him back downstairs for that chat. Her libido couldn’t be trusted standing so close to Mr. I’m-A-Ten and her waiting bed only a hop, skip and a jump away. All thoughts of a good night’s sleep were now gone, replaced with the desire to spend it heating up her cool cotton sheets with the Greek god standing uninvited before her. Yeah, she had it bad for the man.

  Hopeless.

  She didn’t have a prayer in the world against his sexual prowess. The man was sex on a stick and looked good enough to lick, every delectable inch.

  “If you don’t quit that, I’m not going to be responsible for my actions,” his deep voice rumbled from somewhere within his impossibly thick chest.

  Kimber knew for a fact she could not wrap her arms completely around him. “Quit what?”

  “Looking at me like I might be your next meal.”

  She chuckled, her cheeks quickly heating. Thankful for the darkened room, he wouldn’t see how embarrassed she was for having been caught ogling his magnificent form. “I didn’t realize I was.”

  “You were.”

  Though she knew better than to ask, she couldn’t help herself. “And what actions wouldn’t you be responsible for?”

  His white teeth flashed against his tanned skin, appearing darker in the low lighting. He raised one brow. “Would you like to know? I could easily oblige.”

  Her own merriment kicked up, maybe a result of feeling giddy that he wanted the same release she did. It was obvious in the way his gaze bore down on her. Had she any hope it would be more than just another one-night stand with him, she would’ve dragged him to the waiting bed herself. Knowing it wasn’t to be anything more, had her nudging his immovable form toward the stairs.

  “We can talk downstairs.”

  Her first indication of the stairwell met with his immovable form. Her second had him glancing at her in what might have been disappointment, then turning and heading back down the stairs. Kimber followed, her own regret nipping at her heels.

  Once they hit the living room, she blew out a steady stream of frustration. Anton turned, his gaze traveling her body, down to her bare legs and back up, momentarily stopping on her breasts again. Anton didn’t even bother hiding his interest. He was no doubt a man used to getting his way.

  Kimber cleared her throat and earned the attention from his eyes, along with a cocky grin on his handsome face.

  “What?” He laughed. “Tell me you aren’t thinking about it.”

  Her lips turned up. “I wouldn’t even pretend to deny it. But that doesn’t mean it’s going to happen. Why are you here, Anton?”

  “I need to head back down the coast.”

  Her gaiety fled. “So you came to say good-bye? Or did you think you might get a farewell piece of ass?”

  “If you’re offering…”

  “Seriously?” Of all the damn nerve. “Get the hell out, Anton.”

  He chuckled again. “Relax. It was a joke, sweetheart. Although I wouldn’t be opposed to it, it’s not why I’m here. I wanted to let you know I was leaving.”

  “You would’ve left anyway.”

  “Yes, but I had planned to stay a bit longer. I really wanted to get to know you … as a friend.”

  Kimber toyed with the hem of her T-shirt, if nothing else than to still her trembling fingers. “You’re really not what I expected, you know.”

  “I’m not sure I’m following. What did you expect, Kimber?”

  She looked to her bare feet. “You’re a biker. A gang member.”
>
  “I belong to a club, tesoro. Big difference.”

  “I would’ve thought that you would have taken what you desired. I mean, you’re standing in my house. It’s late.”

  Anton’s lush lips became a straight line. “So you think I would come in here and what? Take what I wanted, whether you asked for it or not?”

  She shrugged.

  Stepping forward, he gripped her chin firmly and tilted her gaze to meet his. The dim light coming in from the windows highlighted the seriousness of his expression. “I think you have a misconception of motorcycle clubs. Yes, some are made up of very bad men. But I’m not one of them. I would never take what’s not offered. I don’t need to. If getting laid is what I want, there are several who are willing to fill that position. You’re not like them. I know I’ve said I don’t need you in my life and that can’t change.”

  He stepped back, pacing away several feet as if he no longer trusted himself. He stuffed his large hands into his jeans’ pockets, testifying further to the desire he held in check. “My life is really complicated at the moment. The last thing I need is a good girl complicating matters.”

  He thought of her as a good girl? The admission warmed her heart and oddly pleased her, given the number of women he likely took to his bed.

  “And yet, here I stand when I should be heading down the coast.”

  “Will you be gone long?”

  “I don’t know.” He pulled one hand from his pocket and ran it through his mussed black hair. His action made her jealous of his hand, desiring to run her own fingers through his shorn locks. “In truth, I have no idea what my future holds.”

  “Other than proving my house is easy to break into.” Kimber laughed nervously, but she needed an answer. “Why are you here, Anton?”

  If he was here just to get laid, then the angel in her wanted to send his ass packing. The devil side reminded her they had already had sex, so what would it really hurt? After all, no one would know. It was as elemental as two people coveting the same end, mutual gratification. She definitely craved him, the wetness between her thighs a good indication. And she was pretty sure Anton desired her.