Rogue (Sons of Sangue Book 4)

by Patricia A. Rasey

  Before the son of a bitch could issue another taunt, he was gurgling on his own blood. Anton used the knife he carried in his boot to slice cleanly through his throat. As fast as Anton moved, the son of a bitch hadn’t seen it coming. The second man didn’t stand a chance either. Anton palmed the sides of his head and twisted hard, snapping his neck and dropping him to the cement.

  Neither had a chance to warn those inside.

  Anton picked up his knife lying beside Boston, wiped the blood on his jeans, and ignored the pooling blood calling to him like a drug to a junkie.

  Two down, two to go.

  Anton yanked open one of the heavy doors, damn near pulling them off its hinges. Four sets of eyes looked at him. One set widened in fright, and the only damn one that meant anything at all to him. One body already lay dead on the floor. Anton had been correct, the Devils had taken out the worker so he wouldn’t be able to give an account on what horrific deeds happened after the sun went down.

  “Jesus,” Tank mustered. “What the fuck are you?”

  Spike, the scrawny ass biker by Tank’s side, stood, gun pointed at Anton’s chest. “Stay the fuck where you are, Rogue.”

  His gun hand trembled. Anton doubted at the moment he’d hit the broad side of the barn. Bobby gathered Kimber and pulled her away from the booth. He kept her behind him near the lunch counter. More brownie points for the ex-preacher. Anton moved quicker than Spike’s trigger finger. The gun went off, striking the far wall. His aim had been kicked out of position by Anton’s foot. One fist to the man’s throat collapsed his windpipe. He wouldn’t live to see the sun rise. He’d suffocate long before.

  His attention landed on the Devils’ P. For the first time, Anton saw fear in Tank’s eyes. With everything Tank had done in his life, the horrible things he was guilty of, Anton was only too happy to be the one ending the miserable fuck’s life. Intent on administering death, Anton missed the gun aimed at him beneath the diner table until the bullet hit his gut. Pain seared his abdomen. Anton grunted. His hands covered the wound. Blood spilled through his fingers.

  Kimber cried out and Bobby rushed Tank as he stood. The two went down and the gun fired a second time. Anton wasn’t sure who got hit. That was until Tank rolled Bobby from him. A large gaping hole, just beneath his neck and likely hitting the aorta, spurted blood. Kimber grabbed a stack of towels from the counter and fell to her knees, putting pressure on the wound. Even so, Anton bet Bobby had minutes to live.

  Thanks to Anton’s vampire genes, his own wound had nearly healed already.

  Grabbing Tank by the back of his collar, he hauled the man to his feet. Anton knocked the gun from his hand. The Ruger hit the tile and slid across the floor out of reach. Tank kicked at Anton’s knees, doing no real damage. Anton, tired of Tank’s wasted efforts as one might a gnat’s, dropped his hold on his shirt, and punched him in the face.

  Blood splattered from his broken nose. “I’ll kill you, you son of a bitch.”

  “Not today, Tank.” Anton advanced on him slowly. “Today, I watch you die.”

  He gripped his shoulders, hauled him upright, sank his fangs deep into his neck, and drank the man dry. Anton discarded his empty shell to the floor like yesterday’s garbage. His black gaze sought out Kimber and the blood soaked towels. Bobby gurgled on his blood, unable to say a word.

  Fuck!

  No time to call the P.

  Knowing they had already discussed bringing the biker onboard, Anton took it as his okay to turn the man. He dropped to his knees beside Bobby. Kimber’s wide-eyed gaze landed on him. He must look like a circus freak show.

  No time to explain, Anton bit his wrist and tore open a vein, he held the dripping wound to Bobby’s mouth and said, “Drink.”

  Without question, Bobby followed the directive, clamping onto Anton’s wrist like the lifeline it was. Maybe it was instinct, maybe it was delirium. Either way, Anton was glad he hadn’t gotten an argument out of him. Several seconds later, his wound began to heal and he released his hold on Anton. His eyelids flickered a time or two, then closed.

  “What the hell did you just do?” Kimber squealed. When Anton reached out to her, she batted his bloodied hand away. “You killed him.”

  The fight fizzled out of Anton. Sitting back on the floor, his gaze took in the carnage. His vampire self receded. “I may be responsible for the rest of these miserable fucks, but Bobby will live to see another day. He’s healing.”

  “What the hell are you?” she whispered, her gaze wide as she glanced about the bloody scene. “My God!”

  “Kimber—”

  She held out her hand, cutting him off.

  “Oh my…” Kimber sucked in her breath. “What the hell did you do to me?”

  “I’m not following.”

  “Why the hell did I think your fangs were part of a nightmare? They weren’t, were they?”

  Anton rubbed a hand down his cheek. Shit! The trauma of today must have triggered her recollections. She no doubt recalled his vampire form every time they had been together. This wasn’t going to end well.

  He reached for her again, but she scooted away. “Get the hell away from me. I don’t even know what you are. You … you…”

  Her eyes took in the dead men, then back to Bobby, who still wasn’t moving, other than the rise and fall of his chest. The wound had damn near healed.

  “How?”

  Anton drew his knees to his chest and wrapped his forearms around them. “When he drank from me, he ingested some of my vampire DNA.”

  “Vampire?” The very word shook from her.

  “My blood is healing him.”

  Kimber gasped. “He was dying. Now you’re telling me he will be fine?”

  Anton nodded. “Like me.”

  “You mean a vampire?”

  Again he nodded.

  “I have to be in some sort of alternate reality. Vampires don’t exist. Wait…” Her brow creased. “Vampires rise from the dead.”

  “Fictional vampires, yes. I assure you I’m very much alive.”

  She grabbed a towel and tried to wipe her fingers free of Bobby’s blood. “I need to get out of here.”

  Anton stood, holding out his hand to help her off the floor. Kimber rose on her own, as though she were afraid to touch him. She took another look around, tears slipping down her cheeks. Her breath hitched. Before he could stop her, Kimber grabbed her purse and keys from the diner counter and ran for the door. She let out a startled scream when she came across the other two men lying on the cement just beyond the entrance.

  She turned and looked back at Anton, swiping a hand beneath her nose. “I need to wake up. This can’t be real.”

  “Kimber, you shouldn’t drive. I’ll take you—”

  “No.” The scent of her fear drifted to him. “You need to stay away.”

  “I can’t.” And he knew it to be true, sure as his heart was breaking. He needed to convince her he wasn’t the monster she witnessed moments ago. Now wasn’t the time. “When you’ve calmed down, we’ll talk.”

  She placed the back of her blood smeared hand over her lips. “What could we possibly have to talk about?”

  “Seriously?” He raised a brow. His hand swept the diner. “This. You need to hear me out. Jesus, Kimber. What I’m trying to tell you is that I’m in love with you.”

  A sob escaped her. She turned, opened the door, and ran the short way to her car. Anton watched the car back from the parking lot and head up the highway. He hung his head. Hell, he should go after her, hypnotize her into forgetting the entire night, into forgetting everything that happened between them. But he couldn’t. He wanted her to come to terms with everything, and part of him was the monster she saw moments ago wreaking havoc on the place.

  He shoved a hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Alexander answered quickly. “We got a situation, man. Bring the box truck.” He rattled off the address. “We need a quick clean up, and I need to get Bobby Bourassa back to the clubhouse before his ch
ange begins.”

  “What the fuck happened?”

  “Too damn much to explain over the phone. Just round up the troops and get here STAT.”

  Anton ended the call. Another glance around told him it would take a miracle for Kimber to get beyond the horrific scene. This certainly wasn’t how he envisioned telling her all his secrets.

  The talk would have to wait. First, he needed to wipe the place clean. No one could know he or Bobby were here. He’d leave the others for the cops to find. A robbery gone wrong. No one would care about the bikers’ deaths. Life was better without them in it.

  Chapter 25

  Two weeks had passed since Kimber had last seen Anton. Not so much as a glimpse. She wasn’t any closer to accepting the fact he was something other than human, let alone what he could be capable of. Softening, maybe. Definitely not ready to fully embrace it. He hadn’t stopped by or tried to contact her, other than one phone call to assure she hadn’t gone off the deep end. The call had been awkward at best. She had politely told him she was fine, thanked him for saving her life, then they both fell into awkward silence.

  What exactly was she to say?

  A few weeks ago, she hadn’t even known vampires existed outside of paranormal fiction novels and movies. What she had learned from them was nothing compared to reality. Anton wasn’t the undead, he didn’t sleep in coffins, and he didn’t turn to ash in sunlight. No, he was definitely a hot-blooded, living and breathing, sexy as hell man. One she found herself still hopelessly attracted to, if not out and out in love with.

  Her heart ached.

  She missed him more than she’d care to admit. He may have kept his vampire side a secret from her, but what was he supposed say? By the way, I need human blood to survive. Mind if I tap your artery? Kimber was pretty sure however he tried to present it, she would have freaked out, nonetheless.

  Tamera Cantrell had stopped by following the incident. Kimber preferred to refer to the night at the diner as “the incident” to prevent her from actually thinking about all the carnage and what Anton was actually capable of. He had taken four lives with ease, speaking of his unnatural strength as a vampire. Tamera had tried her best to explain about their existence, to assure her they weren’t all that different or unusual. Well, except for Vlad Tepes, the eldest of the vampires and his appearance in Oregon.

  Yep, the ancient Romanian ruler. The one who impaled people and instilled fear in his followers. Kimber knew little about him from history, other than his tomb had later been found to be empty. The fact he still walked the face of the earth and was Kane and Kaleb’s great, many times over, grandfather was a little mind boggling.

  How the hell did someone live for centuries?

  Tamera made Kimber promise not to tell a soul about what she had learned. Their very lives depended on the anonymity. If humans were to learn about their secret, they might take to hunting them like animals.

  Kimber wasn’t about to tell anyone, even before Tamera had made her swear to keep to secrecy. Who would believe her anyway? Should something happen to Anton, or any of them for that matter, because of her loose lips, she wouldn’t be able to live with herself.

  Anton came back to the forefront of her mind as he often did in the past couple of weeks. Part of her wanted to see him, find out where this thing between them stood. The other part of her was petrified. Not that she feared Anton hurting her. No, she was scared to death of losing her heart to a vampire.

  A little late for that, missy.

  If she were truthful, then she knew she already had. Over the moon, so they say. Kimber was in love with Anton, though she had no clue what to do about it. Even though Tamera had given her insight, and she knew there wasn’t much to fear from the Sons of Sangue, their lifestyle still left her panic-stricken, petrified her into non-action.

  It wasn’t exactly her fault. Kimber had been blindsided. Watching Anton kill the men with little effort had shaken her to her core. And yet, following the bloodshed, he had treated her with kid gloves, which Kimber rewarded him by fleeing into the night. Thank goodness for Diesel. Poor dog. Kimber had held onto him the entire night and into the dawning hours. Her dreams had been filled with bloodshed, fangs, and the daunting faces of the four men who had held her captive. She’d awake in a cold sweat, safe at home in her own bed, with Diesel still by her side. As the nightmares subsided, they were quickly replaced by visions of her and Anton naked and tangled in the sheets, his vampire features no longer hidden or frightening to her.

  A car door slammed, bringing Kimber’s focus to the present. Anton? She hurried to her large picture window facing the road. A teary-eyed Tena walked across her porch. Her doorbell rang, and even then it took a moment to get her leaden feet, from the disappointment of it not being Anton, moving to answer the call. Kimber opened the door and invited her in. With all the craziness her life had become, she had forgotten to check in on Tena.

  From what Tamera had told her, Bobby had taken flight and abandoned those who had given him eternal life. Well, not exactly abandoned. He had given his word to one day return, once he had come to terms with what he had become. Kaleb had made him promise to check in once a week. To do otherwise, would be in violation of a direct order. Should that happen, he’d send Anton, Alexander, and Grigore after him. She couldn’t help but wonder what the ex-preacher thought about being given immortality Sons’ style, or how that might work out with his faith.

  Kimber had taken a few weeks’ leave from work to get her shit together. Lord, she had been self-centered. Not once had she considered what her friend might have been going through with Bobby’s sudden decision to leave town.

  “Please come in, Tena.” Kimber held open the door for her. “I’d ask if everything was okay, but it obviously isn’t.”

  Tena gave her a watery chuckle. “I just heard from Preacher.”

  Kimber’s gaze widened, surprised the man had called. “Where did he say he’s been?”

  She couldn’t imagine he had confided in Tena that he’d just been upgraded to vampire, and she wasn’t about to supply that particular information.

  “He said he left town, needed some time on his own to sort his life out.”

  Kimber couldn’t imagine why he’d leave the MC he had been given carte blanche to. “Back to Santa Barbara?”

  She shook her head. “I got the impression he might not return. He said he was done with the Devils and wasn’t wearing colors.”

  “No colors?”

  “Meaning he’s done with the motorcycle clubs.”

  Kimber happened to be just as baffled. Tamera had said Bobby picked up and left following his change, but she hadn’t said where to. Not to mention he had promised to return. Regardless, Kimber wasn’t at liberty to say what she knew. “So he’s not staying at the Sons’ clubhouse?”

  More tears fell. “From what he told me, he was only there for a little over a week. He packed up and headed out for the east coast … on his own. Said he needed to reflect on the nightmare his life had become. When I asked him what he meant, he didn’t elaborate. Told me I was better off not knowing.”

  “Woo hoo? Anyone home?” Chad’s voice came through her screened door. “Tena told me she was headed out here. I hope you don’t mind I extended myself an invite. You two can’t think to be partying without me.”

  Kimber headed for the door and held it open. “We wouldn’t think of it, handsome. Trouble is, there isn’t anyone in the mood to party here.”

  Kimber beckoned for Tena and Chad to follow her into the kitchen. Might as well drown their sorrows in alcohol. She opened her wine cooler and pulled out a bottle of moscato. After pulling three stemmed glasses from the rack, Kimber poured them each half a glass.

  Kimber toyed with the stem. “You really liked him, huh?”

  “I’m being stupid.” Tena picked up one of the glasses from the counter and headed for the breakfast nook in the corner of the kitchen. “I haven’t known him very long, but there was just something about him.”


  Kimber and Chad followed, taking adjacent seats. “I don’t suppose we can govern our hearts. If we could, I could stop thinking about Anton and move on.”

  Tena grabbed a tissue from the box on the table and blew her nose. “Aren’t we just a couple of whiners.”

  Chad tsked. “I say we all stop being pissers and head for a nightclub.”

  “No,” both Kimber and Tena said in unison.

  “Oh, please.” Chad waved his hand. “Party poopers. Well, then, should we drink to no more broken hearts?”

  “Hear, hear.” Kimber and Tena held up their glasses and clinked them against Chad’s.

  Tena quickly downed the sweet wine. Chad walked over to the counter and returned with the bottle, pouring her another glass. “Well, if we’re to stay in, I say we might as well get drunk. Men. The bane of our existence.”

  Kimber passed him her glass for refill. “You having men troubles too, Chad?”

  “Oh, honey, I’m always having men troubles. So what’s got you all upset, Tena? What did Mr. Bear-alicious do?”

  Tena shrugged, moisture gathering in her eyes. “I told myself I wouldn’t do this. No man is worth it.”

  “Oh, honey, let me tell you. That bear of a man was worth it and then some. He was capital D-elicious—”

  “He’s leaving, Chad,” she interrupted. “Said he was heading east.”

  “How far east?”

  “I believe all the way to the coast.” She blew her nose again. “It’s not like I can drive there over the weekend to check on him. I fear he’s never coming back.”

  “Maybe.” Kimber patted Tena’s hand. “How about some optimism. He did call you.”

  “He did, didn’t he?”

  “See, there is a bright side.”

  “The only bright side would be if he would’ve asked me to go with him.” Tena plopped her chin onto her palm, her elbow braced on the table. “Instead, I’m left sitting here nursing my sorrows. I’m so pathetic.”

  “Honey, there is nothing wrong with giving your heart to a man.” Chad poured her some more wine. “The sorrow is in him not taking it. We should drive across country and show him what he left behind. You’re a prize. Any guy—”