Rogue (Sons of Sangue Book 4)

by Patricia A. Rasey

  Damn, he’d never make it at this rate.

  Anton growled, wishing there was more time. He disentangled her hand, grabbed her by the waist and easily lifted her off the vanity. Her hands tangled in the hair at his nape and her thighs wrapped about him, her ankles locking at the small of his back. He needed to feel her wrapping his cock now.

  He doubted it would take Bobby long to note his absence.

  Every second counted.

  Anton slanted his lips over hers, pulling her lower lip between his teeth. His fangs nicked the soft flesh, allowing him to taste the sweet ambrosia of her blood, tempting the vampire in him. Damn him for wanting the forbidden fruit, to sink his fangs and drink his fill. Instead, he suckled the small cut, teasing his palate with the small offering. Her blood was off-limits. He may not be a part of the Sons at the moment, but his heart was still a full-fledged member. He’d continue to abide by their rules.

  Her hands slipped beneath his tee and up his back, scoring the flesh with her nails. The delicious sting of the small scrapes had him growling as the last thread of his will snapped. Anton reached between them and gripped his cock.

  The doorknob rattled, followed by a knock.

  Anton’s nostrils flared, the scent telling him Bobby wasn’t on the other side. He didn’t give a rat’s ass who waited. He wasn’t about to stop. Kimber’s gaze flitted to exit, her cheeks flushing.

  Dear Lord, don’t let her back out now.

  “Give me a moment.” She placed her fingers over his lips, stopping him from telling whoever it was to take a fucking hike. “I’m not feeling well. I just need a minute or two of privacy.”

  Kimber stifled her giggle into the crook of his neck. Anton heard the woman’s disgruntled response about not leaving a mess. Her footfalls thankfully retreated back down the hall, buying them a little more time.

  Not willing to waste a second more, he kissed her deeply, fucking her mouth with his tongue. His cock ached as it nestled against her hot, wet folds. Kimber dug her heels against the cheeks of his ass, silently giving him permission to bury himself balls-deep.

  Breaking the kiss, his breath sawed from his lungs. The pulse at the base of her throat hammered in his ears. His fangs lengthened, threatening to take the nourishment just scant inches from his lips. Anton kissed his way down her soft downy cheek to the hallow of her throat. Her blood pulsed just beneath his tongue as he tasted the salt from her skin. Kimber tipped back her head, unknowingly giving the vampire in him permission to sink his fangs. It took every ounce of willpower not to do so. Instead, he gripped his cock again and slid it along her slick folds, before positioning the head. Her answering moan had him shoving into her, burying himself to the hilt. He withdrew slowly, before sliding back in, loving the way her walls squeezed him in response.

  Kimber tightened her hold on his hair.

  “Hard,” she whispered against his ear.

  Digging his fingers into her ass, he withdrew, then trust back into her, unable to get the leverage for what she asked. Anton backed her to the neighboring wall, anchoring her. He pulled out and slammed back into her. Her back slid up the paneling. Kimber gasped, her gaze fixing his. With each thrust, she rode the wall, her breasts bouncing beneath her white blouse. It was then he realized she must have removed her bra as well. His mouth itched to draw her nipples between his lips, to suckle them deep. No time. The woman from earlier would likely be returning. Better that than Bobby getting curious.

  Anton’s jeans rode low on his ass, the front now cupping his balls. Kimber’s breath quickened, telling him she wasn’t far from reaching her climax. Anton released one delectable ass cheek, balancing her on his forearm. He ran his free hand between them, his thumb finding the tight knot of nerves, just above where they were joined. The sight of his cock sliding in and out of her, had him racing her to the finish line. He circled her clit, teasing the taut little bud.

  Kimber tilted her head, the beautiful arch of her neck taunting him. He placed a kiss along the gentle curve, scenting her sweet blood just beneath the surface. The sound of her blood rushing through her veins traveled to his ears. It wouldn’t take much to give into his hunger. Anton ran the sharp points over her silken flesh, just as her climax began milking him for all he was worth. Keeping his fangs in check, he slammed into her a few more times before his own climax let loose.

  His ass cheeks tightened, every muscle in him going taut.

  His forehead rested on her shoulder, his heart hammering against his chest.

  They stayed locked together until both their breathing slowed. The soft knock to the door came again. Kimber chuckled as Anton groaned.

  “Two minutes please.”

  The woman slapped the door, clearly disgruntled, before her footfalls could be heard retreating back down the corridor. Anton slowly lowered Kimber to her feet, the flush of her cheeks warming him.

  “Gorgeous,” he whispered before kissing her hard and quick.

  He stepped back and tucked himself into his briefs and jeans. “I’ll head out first. It will appear as if I’m leaving the men’s. You wait a minute or so before following.”

  “How long are you in Pleasant?”

  Her question surprised him. “As long as it takes. I can’t discuss it, Kimber, but until it’s done Preacher and I will be staying at the farmhouse.”

  Her well-kissed lips turned up. “I’ll get to see you then?”

  If he did what was best for her, he’d tell her no. “When I can.”

  She nodded. Anton hoped she would leave it at that. He wished things could be different, but until he finished his undercover work he was in it neck deep. Letting Kane down wasn’t an option. Even if it meant putting his own desire on hold. Besides, when he wasn’t trying to fool himself, he knew there was no possible way for this to end well. There was no way Kimber would see him for anything other than a monster once the truth came out.

  Turning, he slid the deadbolt, peeked into the hallway, then slipped out of the room unseen. The sound of Kimber’s slacks sliding over her silky flesh as she redressed, followed him down the hall. Sometimes his acute hearing was a damn curse. Jamming a hand through his hair, he bit back a string of curses. Anton walked over to the bar and ordered a whiskey — a very tall one. Instead of being replete, he wanted more. He wanted happy-ever-after, waking up at dawn and slowly making love. Hell, he wanted it all. Walking away for good one day was going to kill him.

  Anton gripped his glass, turned and saw Preacher still talking to the blonde, paying him no mind at all. He downed the contents, then placed it back on the counter and headed for the exit. This close to the Rave, he might as well find the nourishment he denied himself moments ago. Bobby was a big boy. He could find his own way back to the farmhouse.

  Chapter 14

  “You need to keep Tamera from heading down the coast.” Anton leaned forward, bracing his forearms on the breakfast bar at Cara Brahnam’s house, bringing him down to eye level with her. Anton had no clue where Kane had taken off to, but his scent wasn’t in the house. “There’s been a change of plans. Obviously, I’m no longer in Santa Barbara.”

  “You’re running a little late with the information, Blondy.” Cara’s brows drew together, clearly perturbed. “Don’t you think you should’ve told us about you coming back to the farmhouse after it was decided?”

  Anton righted himself to his full height, bracing his hands on the granite. “I just found out Thursday. Not my fucking fault.”

  “Today is Saturday.”

  “Glad to hear you know what day of the week it is, Brahnam.”

  She ignored his jibe, turned, and grabbed a couple of mugs from the cupboard. Cara poured them each a hot cup of coffee from the pot in the corner, then slid a mug across the counter to him. Bringing the mug to his nose, he inhaled the smell of fresh brewed coffee. He still loved it, always would.

  “She’s probably already in Santa Barbara.”

  “Is that where Viper is?”

  Cara nodded. “He’s
keeping an eye on her … at a distance, of course. You were supposed to be her contact.”

  Anton steeled his jaw. Not his fault. He’d be damned if she’d make him feel as if it was. “Tank sent me and Preacher north. Couldn’t be helped. He wanted us to keep an eye on Draven and their interest in Oregon. You should’ve called before sending her to Santa Barbara, Cara. Don’t lay this shit on my doorstep. Besides, with Viper keeping an eye on her, he won’t allow anything to happen to her.”

  Anton quickly brought Cara up to speed on Tank’s order to run heroin through the colleges, more specific Oregon University. She hadn’t been any happier about the plan than Anton. It was one thing to run drugs through the nightclubs, but taking it to the schools didn’t sit well with him or Cara.

  “Viper go alone?”

  “Actually, no. He called in Red. It appears the Sons are bringing them back as a puppet club.”

  “Hawk agreed to that?”

  “He wasn’t thrilled, but he knew the Sons could use the numbers since someone seems hell-bent on taking out the members. Not to mention you going rogue.”

  “The P know where his twin went?”

  “He only told Hawk he was heading to Washington to talk to Red. There’s more.” Cara placed the carafe back on hot plate. “Vlad told Viper that Mircea’s in the States.”

  “You think Mircea might have had something to do with Kinky’s death, or you still believe the Devils are guilty?”

  Cara took in a deep breath. “You tell me. You’re closer to the Devils than anyone else.”

  “I put out feelers, but no one’s talking. Besides, what would the motive be?”

  “I doubt they’d need one.”

  “Maybe not. But why Kinky? It doesn’t make sense to come all the way here to take out one of the quieter Sons. Why not also Wolf or Xander? They were all there.” Anton took a sip of his coffee, then set it back on the breakfast bar. “We already know Mircea has an axe to grind.”

  “I don’t think Mircea’s guilty. Neither does Kane. A gunshot to the forehead wouldn’t be his style. If he wanted to come in and execute one of the Sons, he’d make sure every one of them knew he was judge, jury, and executioner. He wants retaliation for Rosalee. There’s no doubt about that, but Kinky had nothing to do with Rosalee. I hate to say it, I think we might have two possible threats out there. Mircea gunning for Kane or Kaleb, and the Devils taking out one of the sons.”

  “What’s your theory?”

  “Turf war. Taking us out one-by-one, so they can take over our state. Running drugs here is only the beginning. They have no idea the Knights are now backing us, which is confidential, Blondy. I’d rather they didn’t know about that.”

  “They won’t hear it from me. And the big guy? What’s he have to say about all of this?”

  “Vlad says Mircea’s on the run. Hasn’t heard from him last we knew. I haven’t heard from Vlad since our last meeting with him.”

  “So it’s not out of the question he might be responsible. Maybe he’s a chicken shit and hired the hit.”

  “He’s definitely a coward. I still think he’s far too arrogant not to let it be known he took out Kinky, for whatever his agenda might be.” She took her mug to her lips and blew at the steam rising from the hot liquid before taking a sip. “Who’s this Preacher you mentioned?”

  “Bobby Bourassa. Have Hernandez check him out, but I don’t think you’ll find much other than a few minor arrests. He seems on the up-and-up. Good guy. He’s staying with me at the farmhouse.”

  “He better be on the up-and-up. You brought him to Pleasant” — she jabbed her forefinger in his direction — “you keep him in line. He causes trouble in our state, it’s your ass Hawk will be after.”

  Anton grinned. Kaleb already wanted his ass, so what was new? “I’ll take responsibility for him. He causes problems, I’ll take care of it. Something tells me I won’t have to worry about him.”

  “I should probably call Kane, let him know the Devils went proactive and are back to running the drugs. Heroin? Damn.” Cara worried her lower lip. “We don’t get a handle on this, I don’t have to tell you the ODs will rise. We’re going to have a lot of strung out kids.”

  “Heroin is more profitable.”

  “It is. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

  “I wasn’t a fan either when Tank laid it on us.” Anton flattened his palms on the counter. “Tank wasn’t budging when I posed an argument. His orders came straight from Raúl. The kingpin no doubt felt the economic crunch when he put things on hold because of the rumored DEA’s interest. Raúl’s going after bigger profits.”

  “Give me a few minutes, Blondy. I need to pass this along to Kane. Not sure I’m going to pull Tamera just yet. She might not get any leads on drugs, but maybe she can get one of those blowhards bragging about what happened to Kinky.”

  “Make sure you let Viper know, having Preacher along for the ride, I didn’t have time to call and warn you I wasn’t in Santa Barbara.”

  “You should’ve found time.” Her gaze darkened. “Keeping Tamera safe is our number one priority. Thank goodness Kane and Red are trailing her or you would’ve left her ass hang out to dry down there.”

  “Fuck you, Cara.” Heat rose up his neck. “I’m in this mess because you stuck me here. You don’t like the job I’m doing, then fucking pull me.”

  “I don’t have to tell you what Gypsy would have to say about this mess.”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “He’d no doubt blame me as well, giving him another reason to hate me.”

  Anton should’ve found a private moment and called, letting them know he was heading north. But how the hell was he to know they had already sent Tamera to Santa Barbara? Cara was just as much at fault for putting her at risk and not calling him. Tamera was left to tackle the job on her own with a bunch of lowlifes who would think nothing of harming her. There was no doubt with Tamera’s good looks and investigative skills, she might be able to help the case of Joseph’s execution and get someone singing, that is if the Devils were guilty. But if she got too nosy … it might just put her in a heap of trouble.

  In which case, Grayson would hand him his ass.

  * * *

  The Sons of Sangue were easy pickings. He could take out any one of them at any given moment he chose and they would be powerless to stop him. They weren’t up to his caliber. The only thing keeping him from wiping them out was his brother. Vlad had already proved his feelings in the matter where they were concerned when he had taken his stepdaughter’s head.

  Rosalee.

  Forgiving his brother for that deed wasn’t going to happen.

  No matter how long he lived.

  Mircea stood in the forest, downwind, watching the Sons of Sangue’s clubhouse from the rear of the building. The wind would work in his favor for masking his scent. One of the dark, short haired vampires arrived moments ago, took off his helmet and headed inside. A few other motorcycles sat in the parking lot, along with a box truck, telling Mircea the man wasn’t alone.

  Mircea had been in Pleasant for a short period of time, and he’d stay as long as need be. He was in no hurry. Hell, he had an eternity to obtain revenge. Being hasty wrought mistakes. When the curly haired vampire had been shot, execution style, he had been there. Not that Mircea gave a rat’s ass who had fired the kill shot, but he took great pleasure in knowing he wasn’t their only enemy.

  Mircea couldn’t take credit.

  The dead biker wasn’t on his short list of vampires he wanted executed.

  No, Mircea gunned for Vlad’s kin, Kane and Kaleb. He had told his brother it would be Kane’s decision as to who he took out, knowing his ex-son-in-law would do the noble thing and choose himself. Since Kane had been the one to betray his stepdaughter in the first place, Mircea would be happy with his obvious choice. He’d take great pleasure in dealing out a slow, painful death. In truth, Mircea harbored no ill will toward Kaleb or his son. And since Kane would never allow harm to come to
either, he’d sacrifice himself to save those he loved.

  Kaleb’s crime had been the taking of Alec Funar’s head, a primordial, which should’ve earned the short-tempered fool a speedy trip to hell. Truth be told, Alec had been a pain in Mircea’s ass from the get-go. The stupid shit considered himself superior, thinking he deserved a place in Mircea’s household. Alec thought by fucking his stepdaughter it put him in good graces with Mircea.

  He had thought wrong.

  Mircea chuckled. When he heard Alec Funar had lost his head, Mircea had been elated. Rosalee used Alec to her gain, and he wasn’t smart enough to see it. He wouldn’t have allowed the fool to live much longer anyway. There was no way in hell he would’ve allowed Rosalee to mate with the idiot. So Mircea merely humored him, for he had an eternity in which to get what he desired most.

  Rosalee.

  His mate had not deserved the gift of eternal life he had given her. She had whined from the day she had been turned, not having the stomach to feed from mere mortals. Mircea was thrilled when Rosalee gave into her mother’s wishes and took her immorality by ending her life and saving Mircea the trouble.

  Who in their right mind would complain about being a vampire?

  Little did Rosalee know she had played right into Mircea’s hand. He had at one time loved his mate, but unfortunately he had grown bored with her. So he played the grieving widower to a T. No one knew he had wished to end her endless whining, to rip her beating heart from her chest. Since Rosalee wasn’t of his lineage, and her mother’s life had been cut short, he was free to pursue his stepdaughter. She was far more exotic looking than her mother, and far more calculating, which had been a huge fucking turn-on. Kane no longer stood in the way, since Mircea had gladly given him permission to mate with his little detective. Everything was falling into place.