Sanibel Sizzle - Vampire Werewolf Menage

by Talyn Scott

  Ciaran witnessed clear calculation in his Beta’s eyes. Afanas chided, “We both know females have no say over heads of clan or pack law, and you must meet this declared challenge. I understand that you simply feel disloyal to Mike’s memory in doing so. Considering that and the obvious fact that you want her for your own self,” Afanas dared with a lift of his brow, “let me upend your decision as I throw down the gauntlet.”

  “You wouldn’t dare!”

  “I’m the only one allowed,” Afanas replied calmly, “and I just did.” Cheers ascended from below.

  “Fine,” Ciaran barked, “but what becomes of her when she is found without a mate? I cannot execute one given as right to mate, it’s a separate dishonor.”

  “You and your honor,” Beta said, a slow smile curving his lips. “Just as said, you want her as much as I do. Then as she’s found mate-less, she’s under my protection as she takes to the Beta’s bed.”

  “You want the mating challenge to absolve my blood oath, but my clan will slit her throat, unless she’s under my protection. If she remains unmated after this night, my bed is her only chance to live.”

  Afanas clearly didn’t like what he heard. “I hear the truth in your words. If it’s the only way to spare her life from your clan, and you clearly won’t return her to America, I’m in agreement.” Turning to the gathered Weres he announced: The mating challenge to absolve the blood oath this eve!”

  An approaching Were didn’t like what he heard. Tracing the curving stones, he reached the upper landing that denoted the Alpha’s private chambers. Clothing tucked under his arm with food in hand; he stopped before the heavy wooden door and waited for permission to enter.

  “Who’s this?” Ciaran demanded.

  “The miasma shaman I promised you.”

  “Aye, introduce us.” Ciaran smiled warmly in his direction.

  “Rye of Lakewood, he is of Habaline and wolf mix. A highly skilled master at the tender age of twenty two, can you imagine his skills when at your age, old friend, ancient and fully perfected?”

  “No. In all honesty, I cannot imagine it so.” Ciaran shook his head, impressed. “I’m glad you’re on my side, young Rye.”

  “I am.” His voice was disarming, yet confidence lined his simple words.

  “So by all accounts, you can sense another Were, shifter, or vampire, species or undead, minutes before their molecules form on my land.”

  “Some creatures take longer, some take less time, depending on their age, abilities, and power, but yes, I can feel their presence before they make it known through solidification.” He clutched the clothes in his hands, bringing them to his chest.

  “Quite a powerful tool,” Afanas boasted. “Rye can prevent attacks before they begin by a simple word from his lips, a warning expediting our readiness.”

  “Over the centuries, I’ve heard of those few blessed with your skills, yet I have not witnessed them. I look forward to it, Rye of Lakewood.” The Alpha spoke.

  He gave a slight bow to his Alpha and Beta. Not charmed by the Beta’s praise, nor impressed by his Alpha’s actions, his thoughts stayed locked tightly within his psyche, not wanting to taint his scent and showing his hand. All he desired was to step inside the next chamber. A fragrance wafted from under the door: sunshine, field flowers, and miserable female. If he were in her shoes, he would feel the same way. But he, as a male, would get far nastier and fast. What sane being wouldn’t? “I have clothes and sustenance for your captive.”

  “Clothes?” Ciaran questioned, and then nodded. “Yes, she’s in need of both. You may enter. But why is my shaman acting as a chamber maid?”

  Afanas had to laugh. “Even though Renee clearly hates the shaman, she doesn’t try to kill him. And he carries no desire for her, a workable combination if there ever was one.”

  Knocking first, the shaman waved a palm over the lock, releasing the latch. “Female, may I approach you? I have garments and food for your comfort.”

  “By getting me the hell out of here, I’ll be comfortable!” Rebecca yelled while throwing a weighty book she’d snatched off a nearby table. Whacking the doorframe, it landed scarce inches above his head. He hid his laughter, not wanting the Alpha or Beta to witness the exchange. Anyone had to love a true female werewolf; he thought, especially one with such nature-given precision that she could easily hit him square in the face with a flying book but chose not to. Raising a finger to his lips, he closed the door, silencing her until he felt the wolves mist away. “How’s your ass?” he whispered, not empathetic in the least.

  “He’s such a fuck-wad,” her voice nearly broke, as she swiped a wandering tear from her cheek.

  “A powerful one you provoked. I saw you stomping his foot like a brat.” Dropping the clothes on her bed, he sat a brown bag on the table. “I have dried fruit and cheese. No meat, it smelled off today,” he said, making a face of mock horror. “Hot meals are leaving the kitchen in an hour or so. As soon as one’s available, I’ll get it to you.”

  “Thanks, I’ll try to eat. I’m not stupid,” she breathed, “I know you’re mad.” She finished a glass of the nastiest water that she’d ever tasted.

  “You think? Ciaran would’ve never handled you that way if it weren’t for your Walker temper, something you should work on given your current situation. I almost blew it for something stupid: your female pride. Pride you could’ve easily swallowed. At my age, a fight with Ciaran would have killed me or, at the least, had me thrown from the Scottish pack. Where would you be if that happened? Where would we be?”

  Stepping closer and gauging her, he immediately shut his trap and trailed a long finger across her trembling chin. All his life, he thought she was a female of honor. Not to mention, Rebecca was smoking hot. So to see her brought down to this cleaved his heart through its center. “Don’t cry, promise recklessly temperamental behavior won’t happen again, and I’ll drop it on your word.”

  “I’ll do better, promise,” her voice shook with her body, shedding the tears she always hid from Ciaran, “and I’m truly sorry I added to your risks. I just wanna go home, Blade.”

  “It’s coming along, Becca. Gage’s plan will work, and I found out something helpful today: As powerful as they are, I’ve just located two narrow weaknesses in Ciaran’s wards. That’s how I landed fresh clothes for you and got word to our true pack. I’m sneaking out and meeting our members tonight. It won’t be long now. I just have to figure out what wards he’s placed on you and unravel them. You still can’t mist?”

  “Nope,” she answered weakly, reaching for the clothes before Blade blocked her.

  Wrinkling his nose, he pressed, “Take a freaking bath first, Red Becca.” A reminder of his playful childhood nickname for her didn’t crack a smile on Rebecca’s drained face.

  “How can I? You know the human scent has to stay with me. It’s weakening by the minute, so why take the chance for a bath? I have to keep working it, so they’re convinced I’m Renee the mixed blood. On the subject of odor, how do you smell like a Habaline?”

  Blade rolled his eyes, saying, “You don’t want to know, and I’ll never tell.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Yup,” he blew out. Glittering eyes danced with his wolf, warning her to drop it. He combed fingers through his tawny spike-filled hair, tugging at the longer layers before his hands fell.

  “God, Blade, I’m so sorry.”

  “For nothing, none of this is your fault,” he professed, kissing her dirty head. Although her entire frame anxiously shook, Blade figured Rebecca was the bravest female he’d known since childhood and he wasn’t about to let her down. “No worries about your scent, these were from a human shop and thoroughly handled by many of them,” he promised, holding up a pale pink bra and panty set together with a breathtaking green summer dress.

  Slightly tilting his head, he started the bath water with a though
t. “Scrub yourself clean, Red Becca. These should safely mask your scent…for a while. Then we’ll go from there, kay?” Twirling the lacy pale bra, he grinned mischievously. “Think I got the right size?”

  “Finally, a bath,” she sighed appreciatively while totally ignoring his joke. But maybe he wasn’t joking. He wasn’t sure yet. He liked providing for her, protecting her. “Thank you, Blade. The small things I appreciate even more now.”

  “We are born of fastidious creatures. Baths are no small things, especially between mates. We were taught that as teens, remember?” When he said mates she practically flung herself into the bathroom. Another smile curled Blade’s lips as he watched her coyly slip past him, trying to look casual. Rebecca wasn’t a virgin, though by her actions and feminine aroma, she wasn’t off-the-cuff with her sexuality.

  She was nothing like him.

  At only twenty-two, he’d filled out as a true adult male werewolf: Seriously hung, sporting a massively hardened and roped body, a decent six and a half feet with the strength of a hundred men before a hint of Were transformation ever hit his body. Blade knew he looked good, too. If the mirror hadn’t convinced him of that, the women had.

  The humans couldn’t keep their hands off Blade. In his short life, he’d nailed so many women that they paraded in a blur across his immortal mind, a turnstile of naked flesh. A satisfied cock was a happy Blade, and he most certainly satisfied them in return. After all, a selfish lover was a sin against Were nature.

  Why should he consider turning all that away when meaningless, nameless, and loveless conquests got him by?

  But still…

  Just getting by was usually fine by him… until recently. For some reason, he’d started thinking a bit more about his lifestyle. Confusion callously played with his head, making him reflect way too much and drawing him somewhere.

  Considering how his best friend, Arian, and Renee completed one another, he rubbed his sternum. A new and dangerous sensation flared up: longing. For a…mate? Blade had no idea who belonged to him, and except for Renee Shirley, hadn’t bothered to find out. And at this rate, between this dangerous mission and his sexual escapades with the humans, he probably wouldn’t ever find his female.

  Sourly, he thought of the limited, available female werewolves and mixed bloods that appreciated him from a distance. Forever turning him down because they didn’t want him grinding between their sheets, Blade couldn’t give them diseases, and they knew that. But they weren’t the problem, he was. Blade was a male slut, and any decent female didn’t want to carry that kind of baggage. Who could blame them? If the situation reversed, and his girl was heavy on the promiscuity scale, he couldn’t deal with that kind of jealous shit.

  “I can’t believe you’re risking your life this way,” Rebecca whispered, pulling Blade out of his ‘trying to find the real me’ meanderings. “Gage shouldn’t have approached you without asking Jayce first. You’re too young, and I’m not worth chancing your life over.” She turned off the faucet, and the scent of lavender hit his nose.

  The beast smacked the front of his skull. Bathe her.

  Where the hell did that come from?

  “It’s the thrill, Becca,” Blade teased, going on as coolly as possible while rubbing his forehead. A thousand fire ants could’ve taken up residence and wouldn’t have stung this much. “Sanibel has been a real bore lately. Sand, drunken tourists and tiny bikinis get old quickly. I needed a new scene.” Little did Rebecca know; Arian and Bane also begged him to infiltrate the Scottish pack. Nearly three weeks had now passed, and Renee was devastated that she lost her best friend over Steve’s psychotic crimes. Blade put his football career and college on indefinite hold to bring her home. “Everyone wants you back safely, including me,” his tone held conviction, a solidity he felt with his wolf. He would get her home.

  Blade was an easy choice for the mission. And after hearing the situation, he had insisted upon coming here from the start. Bane and Arian were too easily recognized to fool anyone in the Scottish pack. A true Beta was immediately known by all Weres and a Nordic pureblood was a powerful, eyebrow-lifting rarity. No point in raising flags during a covert operation, so Bane and Arian were not on the rescue team. They couldn’t blend in.

  Considering that Renee’s third mate was a species vampire, and no one wanted that thing running around in their pack, Dru wouldn’t be welcome here. None of the three could secure Rebecca without being noticed, which brought us to the understatement of the day.

  “You mean after Renee was mated you needed a new scene.”

  “Female, don’t put words in my mouth when you don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sure, he’d wanted Renee, to have it off with a mixed-blood in heat and answer that natural call would’ve been amazing. At no time was he ever in love with the dark-haired beauty. Rebecca, though, she’d be easy for him to love.

  Why was he thinking that?

  Stepping inside the threshold, he calmly leaned against the doorframe. As Rebecca’s head shyly sank beyond his line of vision, her red tresses curled over the white porcelain and invited him to touch. He grew instantly hard. Blade longed to wrap his throbbing cock and stroke it against the tempting crimson silk. Those thoughts weren’t anything new, he always felt Becca ever since he could remember.

  “You’re not fooling me, Blade.” She peeked over the tub.

  What was Becca going on about? He couldn’t think. Something strange was happening, filling his lungs, fogging his head.

  “Pack members demanded this of you,” Rebecca nagged, “and your male pride stepped up to the challenge. If I survive and you don’t, I’ll never forgive myself. Never. The dangers you’re facing, they’re crazy ones. Think about your mom and the rest of your family on the island.”

  “Becca,” he pleaded wearily, tightening his fingers around the door knob. His zipper was digging in his swollen flesh. “Please don’t put my mom in my head right now.” So fucking horny, what’s happening to me?

  “Why not? She has to be worried sick,” she droned on.

  “Becca,” Blade warned just as he heard soap hit the floor. Oh shit, this isn’t happening now. Flattening his palm against the bathroom door, it clicked shut with ominous finality and his hard body still inside. A very adult decision was then made.

  “What is it?” she asked, sitting up and reaching for a towel.

  “Becca,” he shushed her and leaned down, scooping up the fallen soap.

  “Someone’s coming?”

  “You,” he whispered aggressively, meeting her eyes with electrified blues, “by my hand.” Blade traded the soap for a large towel. After wetting it, he meticulously placed it under the door, sealing her scent the best he could under their particular circumstances. Turning, he said with absolute conviction, “Rebecca Walker, you’re going into heat.”

  4

  “You’re wrong.” Shivers touched her skin. That meant someone in this god-forsaken nightmare was her mate.

  “No,” Blade argued, slowly kneeling next to her and pulling the drain stopper. “Your pheromones are kicked up, tormenting me nearly beyond reasoning. I’ve only been around mixed bloods in heat, never a female werewolf. So what you’re throwing off, Becca, it’s epic compared to others. In fact, you’re driving me bugfuck crazy.” Blade leaned in a fraction closer, unnerving her with ravenous eyes.

  Drawing her knees together, she squeezed as hard as she could until the bones nearly touched. A dripping hand came up from the water, his. Strong fingertips scaled her shins, inching toward the center, where he didn’t need to go. “You’re absolutely right,” she snapped, “you are crazy. We can’t go from childhood kisses, and then a mediocre adult friendship to instantaneous lovers.”

  “The humans do it,” he protested, “hooking up in bars all the time. Hell, most of the time they just met five minutes prior.”

  “That reminds me,” she huffed, narrowi
ng her eyes, considering all the humans he’d been with. No, he couldn’t give her anything, but still, she didn’t like his triviality with women.

  As the tub quickly drained, her protests grew feebler. “My hair isn’t clean.”

  “We’re headed to the shower where we’ll both fit. I’m honored to wash it.”

  “You will not,” Rebecca spoke out, slamming back while wrapping her arms over her breasts.

  “I clothed you, provided food, and will bathe you.” Canines slid over his bottom lip. They both noticed his verbal distortion but chose not to address it.

  “Don’t give me that! You can only wash a God-given mate, well, supposed to anyway.” Inclining, she stared at the ceiling when the shower came on. Uncomfortable to face him, she closed her eyes a brief moment. “Blade, I appreciate everything you’ve done, and I’ve begged you to save yourself daily. But come on, we can’t step over this line. I’m not like that… free with my body…like you.” Although, you’ve headlined my fantasies after I hit puberty. His strong lips pressed her sudsy knee, stirring her eye’s open.

  “Seriously, you’ve got to shut it and relax,” he said, ignoring her insult. “This isn’t a time to argue about moral standards, Becca. It’s about keeping the others off you…not that we won’t enjoy this little excursion.”

  “We won’t happen.”

  “You’re so stubborn,” he chuckled unfazed, running his tongue across both her knees while spending extra time over the line that joined the pressed flesh.

  “We all have our faults.” The last of the water drained, granting Blade full view. “Hand me a towel, please.”

  “Open up, baby.” A large hand gripped her ankle, pulling it high and placing it on the porcelain rim.

  “Blade, the answer’s no.” Cupping her sex, she wasn’t allowing a peep show no matter where he put her leg. Sprawling in an empty tub was… “Oh, no,” she groaned, clutching her stomach with both hands, a forgotten moment leaving her sex without covering.