by Talyn Scott
“Or what? You’ll let a vampire gnaw on me?” Her heart pounded fiercely, hard enough to implode.
A dark male voice answered her. “The vampire won’t feed on anyone for a while.” Two long and bloodied fangs hit the tile before Gage misted in with Rock behind him.
Tatum’s body went limp. A bizarre elation hit her when she saw Gage’s determined stance. And even though she expected someone to help her, she was too stunned and too weak from blood loss to take it all in. Rock held a silver dagger at Mike’s throat and they misted out. “What are you going to do?”
“Take you to Miami with me.” Gage said. Steve Palazzo materialized at the door. “Not one more step, Steve. Tatum is unclothed.”
“Is she okay?”
“Why do you care?” Tatum tried to shout, but her vocal cords wouldn’t work with her.
“He’s helping, sweetheart. Calm down.” Gage removed his shirt.
“He’s the one that got me into this; I’m sure.”
“No…this was all Maestru’s doing.” Gage gingerly lifted her.
“You’re always there for me, white knight.”
“Because I want to be,” was his easy reply.
“Are those really his fangs on the floor?”
Gage frowned. “Did you expect anything less?”
“No.” He brought her to the bedroom.
“Get towels, Steve, and don’t ogle her. I haven’t the patience to wait for your eyes to regenerate if I have to remove them. Time is wasting.”
“Easy,” Steve said, before he jaunted into the bathroom. “I don’t want any further dealings with Bren Walker so don’t worry about it.” He produced the towels with his eyes averted.
“Steve’s going to mist you,” Gage explained after patting her dry and carefully placing his shirt over her. “Your neck is ravaged, but it will heal,” he soothed. He drew her hands up and studied her wrists. Anger rolled off him in violent waves. “Turn around Mike.” Gage inhaled above her apex.
“What are you sniffing?”
“Think calmly, Tatum. Did Maestru use endorphins on you?” His voice was calm but his face said Maestru might miss more body parts soon.
She went cold inside. “I blacked out…totally blank each time.”
“I should have asked Maestru before I cut out his tongue.” Tatum’s brow curled before she followed Gage’s eyes zeroing in between her legs. “You’ll have to feed here, Steve, where she wasn’t touched.” Stroking her arm, Gage stood. “Can you do anything your wicked brother does?”
“Pretty much,” Steve answered, stepping closer.
“Then I want her unconscious before the first draw, she’s been through too much.”
Before Tatum’s rebuttal left her lips, Steve sank fangs into her thigh, and she remembered nothing.
Miami FL
It was neither night nor day. Grey painted the walls, the floor, the ceiling and Bren’s mood. She searched her man with gritty sleep-filled eyes. His bare back turned to her with pajama bottoms slung low around his waist. Dark skin was a shadowed contrast in the monochromatic scene. The hurricane blinds were drawn tight, and he stared through the obstructed window at nothing.
“The windows may be covered,” she stated with a mildness she didn’t feel, “but I still have the best view in town. Mouthwatering I’d say.” The last thing she remembered was Steve biting her. “We’re in the penthouse.”
“Yes.” By her side before she took her next breath, he asked, “How are you, love?” Bren brushed her hair back with a tenderness that brought on waterworks. Wiping away her tears, he snuggled her against his chest and drew them in a sitting position against the headboard. “Dumb question, huh?”
“I’ll be fine.”
He reached the nightstand and snagged a box of tissues. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.”
“Purely selfish, love, it’s for self-preservation.” A broken voice teased. “You are a snot factory when you cry.”
“Gross,” she quipped, though not embarrassed in front of Bren.
“Sometimes, but I’ve seen a lot worse.”
“Speaking of which…”
“He’s here.” A clipped tone that said he hadn’t simmered down. “Jayce is with him.”
“Will I ever understand one thing that goes through Mike’s head?”
“Probably not… he’s in love with you.” Oppressive heat left Bren’s body.
“Right, love is permitting a vampire to use me as his chew toy.”
“I was surprised to find Maestru was in on it.” A steely whisper held a whip readied to lash. “But desperation often makes fools of the powerful.”
“What did Gage do to Maestru?”
“He’s regenerating quickly…unfortunately.” Often, vague answers needed no elaboration.
Part of her didn’t care what happened to Mike but she asked anyway. “What’s going to happen?”
“What do you want to happen, Tatum?” Jayce misted inside the bedroom and eased next to her. A forehead marred with concern while blazing eyes scanned the damage cause by Maestru’s repeated feedings. Fine lines pinched his mouth while he waited for her answer. They were scary calm, both of them.
“Is this the calm before the storm or after it? Maybe it’s the lull in between, but I have to know.”
“The storm was over before you awoke, Tatum.” Bren spread out his legs on the bed, settling her between them. “I’m sure you do not want the details.”
“Yeah, I think you’re right.” She cleared her throat. “Send him in.”
“Hellcat,” Jayce started but whatever look she used stopped him in his argumentative tracks.
It took all of two seconds for Mike to appear. Jayce, as Alpha, could mentally summon within a reasonable range. To her surprise, Mike didn’t look too worse for the wear. His jaw was obviously healing from some type of punch, and he had a new limp. “Well,” she said, leaning against Bren’s chest, “did you think it was right to allow Maestru to drain me?”
“I wasn’t in the room when it happened,” Mike explained. “Briefly, I had phoned family members to tell them I was still alive. I stepped out so I wouldn’t disturb you.”
Tatum was shocked Bren and Jayce sat in silence. “You left me alone with a vampire that craved the taste of me.”
“I didn’t think… There’s no…”
She stopped him with one arched brow. “You know better than to fling out your weak excuses at me. They’re getting old. I said I would attempt to work on a relationship with you if you secured Rebecca. Not that I would’ve kept the agreement after you dumped me in Maestru’s lap, but it’s certainly null nonetheless. Rebecca is secure without your help.”
“You’re my mate,” Mike insisted, glancing between Jayce and Bren. “They’re no more a part of you than I am.”
“You’re wrong.” She rolled her eyes at his dense proclamation. “But I’m not explaining why. It would benefit you to find out on your own before I see you again.”
“Anyone can see they’re controlling,” Mike said, lengthening his canines.
She pulled Bren’s arms around her torso. “Yeah, they’re controlling.” Her cheeks warmed with a smile when neither denied it. “So I have docile moments…lots of them. But I’m me,” Tatum clarified, locking eyes with Jayce, “and our personalities fit. So who’s to say I’m supposed to behave this way and my mates are supposed to react that way when we’re happy together as we are? That’s why God created us as individuals, right?”
Before he could interrupt her, she went on, “And I’ve played this over in my head, wondering what would’ve changed if I’d known you still lived.” She held her palms up in a helpless gesture. “After the terror you and your sister caused not so long ago, all I can imagine is the insurmountable worry that kind of baggage would’ve held for me while I looked ov
er my shoulder daily waiting for the other shoe to fall. And in your way, Jayce, you shouldered that for me. And how I feel about you, Mike,” she stopped, shaking her head. “I don’t have an answer.”
Tatum trailed off a moment, attempting to place her colliding thoughts in a semblance of order. Shadows of the past…a horrific moonlit night filled with screams and blood puddles in the sand. Coupled with the present - Maestru’s dagger-like fangs filled her vision…her struggling with the fear of Mike keeping her away from Jayce and Bren forever. “There are so many things I’m still trying to get over to rebuild myself, get my confidence back. My ex-husband used me ruthlessly. Your sister was the monster in my closet that jumped out one night and wholly terrorized me. That’s nut-shelling it, Mike, because words can’t describe their kind of evil and never will. And they’re both dead.” She stressed, staring at Mike, willing to get through to him. “I was victimized. The helpless girl tied to the train tracks again and again. But it should have never come from you, my mate. I don’t ever want to be a victim again, especially to someone who’s supposed to love me.”
“Then you won’t be,” Bren broke his silence, kissing her inner wrist over her bandage.
“And as controlling as you say that Bren and Jayce are, I’ve never once been their victim,” she said sternly.
“Then maybe it is best if I go to Scotland for a while,” Mike spoke up. “That is…if you are permitting it, Alpha.”
Jayce kept his eyes on Tatum. “This time, it’s her decision.”
Tatum appreciated Jayce’s vocalized olive branch. “Yeah, I think helping Ciaran and the others would be the start of something better for you, Mike, instead of sitting here stewing.”
“So can I have five minutes to speak with you alone?”
She tensed for her mates’ answering growls, but they never came.
Jayce smiled at her stunned silence and said, “He doesn’t want a repeat of earlier. So I’m not worried, honey, if you’re okay with it.”
Tatum didn’t want to know what earlier was. “I’m good with it.”
When they misted away, Mike leveled her with a determined look. “I’m not staying away.”
“Yeah, I figured that.”
He laughed bitterly. “How long do you expect me to give you?”
“I’m not so sure.” She wanted to turn her face away, but forced herself not to blink when she said, “I was brought up in the human world. So how long does it take werewolves to grow up?”
“I’ve been getting that lecture a lot lately.” He sat on the bed, but she held her ground, refusing to scoot away.
“Maybe you should listen this time.”
“I’m going to. Let me hug you before I go,” he said, glancing at his watch. “I have three minutes left.”
“I’ll try.” Mike eased around her, encasing her with distant familiarity. She wasn’t comfortable, yet she wasn’t uncomfortable. He smelled her hair as they sat in obscure silence. And the three minutes didn’t drag as she expected. What does that mean? “My Grandmother once told me that if you’re with the wrong person, your life will pass slowly. But if you’re with the one you love, the time will fly by like a gust of wind.”
“Then when I come back,” he promised, kissing her forehead with soft lips, “we’ll ride the wind together.” And he was gone.
23
Rebecca was taking a breather in Ciaran’s stables. She had no illusions that everything was going to work out perfectly with the final battle. Not that she was permitted in any of the meetings. So her day was spent mainly talking over full moon preparations with the staff. It seemed every villager wanted an invitation to the grounds to honor their new Alpha. That couldn’t be done. It wasn’t safe. Their answering behavior wasn’t pleasant, an understatement. Most werewolves had never been allowed to stand in the great hall and celebrate; as they’ve at no time had a reason to after Ciaran’s father was murdered. And it wasn’t as though the Habaline leaders formally stationed in the castle, in the stolen position of authority, would have invited them to party.
The past few weeks had been horrid for Rebecca, but the past years – centuries for some – had been a never-ending hell for the Scottish Pack. The cruelty, the torture, the rapes were quite shocking to hear, but sadly expected when sick monsters were involved. Even as they were immortal, their faces were worn with stress lines detailing their punishing ordeals without the words ever leaving their lips.
She was sure, at times; the Scottish pack members wished to be mortal. Humans would kill for the gift of immortality, since they searched for it endlessly. But Rebecca knew better. What does forever really mean when you’re enslaved to evil?
Her intentions were to help every last one of them. She was finishing her last semester of nursing school when Ciaran abducted her. Her canine’s consistently sprouted with that particular thought. Trying to move forward, she wanted to give aid to those that needed. So Rebecca decided upon taking an active role in all she knew to handle around the grounds, giving hand where needed. As smiles slowly spread and shoulders started straightening among the werewolves, she took pride in their subtle changes. And yet, she wanted to do more.
When Ciaran returned to the stables, she answered all his questions regarding domestic concerns. He was patient, asking her opinions about all things trivial and nothing of great importance. At intervals, he glanced up from fitting horseshoes and graced her with his sexiest smile or a seductive wink. But there was a wall today, and she couldn’t break it down. Nor could she climb over it. “What’s going on?”
He snorted. “The perceptive female you are.” Shaking his head, he went back to the hoof. His black horse stood perfectly still.
“You have that animal in a trance, don’t you?”
Biting down on his lip, he fought a wry smile. “I cannot have him neglected, and he has an ugly disposition when it comes to strangers.”
“I believe you don’t want anyone else to touch him; that’s all.”
“No.” He canted his head and flashed the beast. “I don’t want anyone to touch you.” With a slow purposeful gait, he stopped when his chest met her face. “You are distracting me from my duties.” Fisting her hair, he gently pulled her head back and claimed a deep kiss.
“And what distractions are you accusing me of?” She asked when he released her mouth. Roaming inside his shirt, she rubbed her hands up and down his back. Hot…so very firm…like another part of his body, her favorite organ.
“Firstly, your smell is tantalizing the Alpha.” Bringing her hand to cup him, she understood his issue. She gave him a small squeeze of understanding, and he groaned at the gesture. “Secondly, there’s the madness you’ve inflicted upon me.” He palmed her ass, squeezing both cheeks with skilled hands.
“I carried no madness germs before I arrived here,” her breath hitched. “I’m willing to bet the disease originated with you.”
Keeping one hand on her bottom, he reached for a bridle without taking his eyes from hers. “Do you like those pants?”
“Yeah.”
“Then take them off.”
Rebecca felt her mouth drop open. There wasn’t a storm anywhere close and daylight ensured many working werewolves were walking the grounds.
He inclined his head. “I am quite certain you’re well acquainted with my claws.”
“Okay,” she answered, covering her behind protectively with her hands and taking a step back. She couldn’t help it. Ciaran had the most feral expression she’d seen on him, and he was holding a bridle.
“I don’t want to tear them.” Ciaran’s eyes were dark and serious, sparks on heated metal. “You really shouldn’t fear me now, lass. Your adrenaline entices the beast. You know better.”
Rebecca’s heart hammered as she kicked off her boots and pushed down her pants. “A female could really lose her mind dealing with a male like you.”
Ciaran swallowed as she stood in her shirt and panties. “White and sheer and perfect,” he said in a low whisper. “Place your foot on that hay bale. Exactly, now bend your knee out…” He fell to his knees, cupping her ass with one hand and securing her waist with the other. Staring appraisingly at her apex, he took an oral hold.
“Ah…” With her panties intact, Ciaran’s tongue explored her clit. She braced her hands on him, sensing the tension in those broad shoulders. I’m tense, too.
“Who does this belong to?”
Her legs trembled when he stared up at her, stopping everything to wait for her response. “You, it belongs to you.”
“And me,” Blade interjected, misting in next to them. Without another word, he unzipped his jeans and freed his dick. With it firmly in his grasp, he closed his eyes a moment to calm himself.
“And Blade,” Rebecca added quickly. She’d not once forgotten that, forgotten him. He was magnificent as he squeezed himself right below the thick head. Palming his heavy sex slowly, a crystal drop surfaced and she wanted to taste him. Rebecca felt her pulse quicken when she scented his arousal.