by Michele Hauf
“That depends on what definition you’re looking for. The Council’s definition or otherwise?”
“Have you had sex or been bitten yet?”
“Hmm, sort of and no.”
Ridge’s pleading gape gave her a chuckle. “What does that mean, Princess? I gotta have something to report back.”
“What that means is, I’m making way in the intimacy department. We’ve made out. Kissed. Done—” she smirked and tucked a loose strand of dark hair over her shoulder “—things. But no official sex yet. And no biting. That’s never going to happen.”
“Your father feels it is necessary to show the vampires we’ve succumbed. The Council requires it.”
“Succumb, my ass. This chick isn’t going to let anyone bite her neck. Pact or no pact. Besides, it shouldn’t matter, not with my father’s plans.”
She stretched a leg, and when Diaz noticed, she smacked his knee with the back of her hand, and said to Ridge, “Could you put a leash on him?”
“Princess, about the bite—”
“Sex should be enough. And…I’m working on that.” This conversation humiliated her more than the idiot Diaz’s lolling expression.
“I’ll report back to your father.”
“You do that. Anything else?”
“The banquet is in a few days. You’ll be there with Lord Saint-Pierre.”
“Of course. The Council wants to see how we’ve progressed. We’ll attend and put on a show. My father doesn’t plan anything for that night, does he?”
“I’ve no information, Princess. I’m sure you’ll receive a call with information deemed necessary.”
Which meant she wouldn’t get the whole shebang. Or even half, if she knew her father. “I’ve broken my cell phone. There’s no way to contact me.”
“I’ll see you get a new one. Have it delivered in a box from a clothing store so the vampire will not suspect.”
“I’d rather you didn’t. He keeps a keen eye on me.” And she didn’t want to lose the trust she’d already gained. Besides, they’d made a deal—kinky man-on-man skin-dancing for the phone—and she wouldn’t go back on her word. “I’ll find a way to call my father in a few days to check in.”
“Very good, Princess. Would you like a ride back to the estate?”
“No, I’ll finish my run. Thanks, Ridge.”
She opened the door, but Ridge caught the metal edge before the sunlight entered. “Princess, you’re not wearing the ring.”
“Well, duh, I just wolfed out. Jewelry doesn’t become fur.”
Diaz growled low and warning. Blu rolled her eyes. The males always thought they could admonish a female when she spoke out of turn to them.
Ridge, thankfully, maintained his deference. “It’s your only protection.”
Really? Not according to what she’d learned. Though, Creed had intimated it could still do a nasty to his magic. Obviously, her father wasn’t aware of that misleading detail.
And what was with the vampire’s magic? What she’d seen him do with the rain last night was fabulous. But it was a pretty trick. Didn’t seem as though he needed it to actually survive. Had she been traded to a worthless vamp? Someone his tribe could risk losing?
She should tell Ridge about the magic and the ring. But it didn’t feel right. She didn’t want to betray Creed.
“I wear the ring always in human shape, Ridge. Thank you for your concern. Besides, I think not wearing it to the banquet would be a tremendous signal to all that I trust my husband, don’t you?”
“I’m not allowed an opinion in the matter, Princess. But I’ll have to report this to your father.”
“You do that. Oh, and let him know Diaz was leering at me.”
Diaz gaped.
“One other thing, Princess. The full moon is in three days. Will you require an escort to a safe house?”
She hadn’t thought about that. Didn’t want to think about it.
Just sitting with Ridge, a connection to her pack and family, put her to odds. While he had a tight grip on his aggression, she could smell the wolf’s desire. The feral need to grab the naked female and mate with her.
She much preferred to be home with Creed.
But she should think about what would happen when the moon grew full. Seriously.
“I’ll call if I need assistance, Ridge. Goodbye.”
This time, she shoved the door open and jumped out before the bodyguard could grab her back. Home was but a race across the field and through the forest.
“Home,” she tried. And with a smile, she nodded. “Yeah, home.”
Kneeling at the side of the van with the blanket over her body, she shifted again, and scrambled from under the blanket as a wolf.
FOUR THOUSAND DOLLARS to bribe the chef away from the Louis XIII restaurant for two hours this evening had been worth every penny. They hadn’t needed a meal, only the rich chocolate sauce poured over a small piece of vanilla cake.
Blu made swift work of the cake.
Now Creed sat on the couch, legs stretched the length, back to the arm. Blu straddled him. The chef had left ten minutes earlier. She leaned aside, spooning a drizzle of chocolate from the plate onto her tongue.
He glided a hand up her bare thigh, loving that all her skirts were short and slinky. The violet hair bobbed about her shoulders as she swung to press her palms to his chest. She cracked an endorphin-laced smile.
“You’ve chocolate on your lip. After all the cash I laid out for the chef, it would be a crime to waste a single drop. Come here.”
She obeyed, leaning in for a kiss, but he instead tongued her lip, licking the spicy chocolate. It heated his palate when he pressed his tongue upward. The kisses that followed were exciting and fervent. He licked and sucked at her mouth as if she were the dessert.
“Your mouth is so hot,” he murmured. “And that’s not from the sauce. Come here, violet lady. I think you dripped onto your breasts.”
The low-cut dress was shocking pink and the fabric so thin he could see the darker areolas through it. Creed palmed a nipple, tweaking the hard jewel.
“Mmm, my mouth isn’t the only thing that’s hot,” she said. Sliding the sleeves from her shoulders, she tugged down the fabric to expose her nipples. “Want a peek?”
“Tease. I want to see something else first.”
“Oh, yeah?” She wiggled her hips, grinding her sex against his hard-on.
“Take off your wig.”
She toyed with the purple hair, a pout plushing her chocolate-stained lips.
“I want to see your real hair. It must be dark.” He traced one of her eyebrows. “Like this.” He slid his other hand between her legs. “And like this. It’s your disguise, Blu. I want to see the real you.”
“I’m not sure.”
It was just hair. He couldn’t understand why she would be shy about it. Unless it was short and unkempt? Everything he’d expected this werewolf to be was not at all true. And how much did he enjoy that?
Immensely.
“You know I like to wear wigs for the color and fun. This is who I am.”
She teased a fingernail beneath his pectoral, and flicked it across his nipple. He sucked in a breath and tensed his jaw.
She was not going to distract and redirect him this time. “If you’re shy about it…”
“It’s not that. It’s just…”
Something deep inside emerged to soften her eyes. Her lashes fluttered as she looked aside, unsure. And sad? He’d noticed the sadness in her eyes before. That such an emotion even existed within this gorgeous woman troubled him.
He’d lost her. She’d separated from him and floated above their sexy embrace, his pushed angel trapped upon this hellish earth. What secrets darkened her gray eyes?
“Blu?”
A huff of breath blew up the violet strands caught in one of her lashes. “If you must know, wigs give me control. And the bright colors seem to keep men a few paces back. Keeps them from wanting to grab it.”
; “Grab it?”
Her posture slumped as she sat upon him. Now unable to meet his eyes, she had moved inward, farther away from him.
How did he get her back? Could he find the halo and restore her glimmer?
“Werewolves are lusty and alpha,” she said, toying with the button on his open shirt, tucked near his elbow. “I’ve had my real hair yanked and pulled and twisted about a fist too many times to count. It frightens me, that helpless feeling.”
“Blu, I would never. I don’t want to hurt you. You know I wouldn’t hurt you, don’t you?”
She shrugged. “Who can ever know something like that? Emotions are complicated. Even the calmest and kindest man can rage and rant and change into a beast.”
“I’m surprised your father allowed his pack members to be so cruel.”
“There are a lot of things you don’t know about Amandus Masterson.”
Evidently. He’d thought the old wolf ineffectual actually. So did the other vampire tribes with which Nava was currently allied.
“Can you trust me to tell me?”
She trailed a finger over his abs, toying closer to where the dark hairs began below his belly button. But arousal sat aside, deferring to this quiet moment. She had revealed herself to him, and he would respect it.
Drawing up her knees, she circled them with her arms and propped her chin on top, closing herself from him like a child protecting herself from pain.
“Let’s just say I’m Amandus’s favorite reward to give over when one of the pack has done something for him. You can imagine what a randy wolf will do with a female when given an opportunity.”
“Blu, I—” Anger roaring to the surface, Creed clenched his fingers. How dare the old bastard use Blu as a sexual reward? “I don’t know what to say.”
“There’s nothing to say. I’ve known nothing else. It is what I am, and I’ve taken some measures to protect myself, but it’s just silly wigs.”
“But you shouldn’t have known such cruelty.” She flinched when he touched her chin. “Please, don’t be frightened of me, ever. I think it’s despicable what your father did.”
“Does, not did. You are just another recipient of his rewards.”
“No, I—No.”
Yet truly, he was. Sacrebleu. Creed swallowed his heartbeat. The father was a monster. And Creed had unknowingly played into one of his twisted games by accepting the prize.
“I would never use you, Blu.”
“I think I can believe that.” A small smile didn’t last more than a moment on her lips. She tucked her head, then looked over her knees. “You are different than the wolves.”
He stroked the violet wig, being careful to do so gently. But Creed didn’t have to think about tempering his touch; for him it was the way women should be treated. They were not prizes to be earned and used roughly. He’d learned much over the years, and looked beyond his distant past when he may have been overly rough with a witch or two.
Atonement. Had this woman been put in his life for that very reason? So he could treat her like the princess she was to make up for his past mistakes?
Damn, he needed to honor his vow not to use magic. He would. For Blu.
She looked aside. “Let’s not speak of it anymore, ‘kay?”
“No, if it makes you uncomfortable.”
She shuffled her feet to bracket his hips, her knees hugging his torso. A discreet tug pulled her skirt down in front.
“I want to trust you, Creed. I feel like I already do. And that frightens me more than a lusty werewolf determined to mate.”
“I will never force you to do anything. I would be no man if I did. And know I will avenge you to your father—you’ve only to ask.”
She pressed two fingers to his lips. “You’re a good man, Creed. Even if you do own a sword called Wolfsbane.”
He clasped her fingers and kissed them as if the greatest treasure. “I haven’t used it for vengeance in centuries. Promise.” Self-defense was another matter.
“And never on females, right?”
“Never. Though my fingers itch now to take it after any man who has harmed you, or pulled your hair.”
She tugged at the ends of the violet wig, wobbling it on her head until the bangs tilted across her brows. Then, she pulled the whole thing off and dropped it to the floor.
A coil of dark hair unraveled from the crown of her head and spilled free onto her shoulders. Lush darkness, like midnight unbound. It dusted her cheek. Caught in her lashes. Trickled to the tops of her half-exposed breasts. Dashed ink marks across the brilliant pink dress.
The fallen angel’s halo. She’d had it all along.
Creed touched the ends curled at her breast. “It’s gorgeous.” He leaned in and nuzzled into her neck, the veil of her silken hair slippery across his nose, his mouth, his eyelids.
“It’s the color of your eyes,” she whispered. “So dark. I was afraid of your eyes that first night at the ceremony. That’s why I didn’t look at you so much.”
“And now?”
“I want to dive into them, to discover what lies in the darkness. I think it’ll be such an adventure. It has been so far.”
“I could do the same with your hair.” He splayed the lemon-sweet strands across his face. “A girl named Blu with the blackest hair, and a penchant to adorn herself with all the colors of the rainbow. My wife. My lover. My danger.”
“I’m not dangerous to you,” she whispered. “So long as the moon isn’t full.”
“And just what happens when it is?”
“You’ll see.”
He brushed her hair from his lips. “Will I?”
“Yes, I think so. I…vow it to you. You’ve sacrificed for me—I should sacrifice something for you.”
“Taking blood from a man at a nightclub was hardly a sacrifice.”
“It was an emotional one. You risked humiliating yourself in front of me. You couldn’t know how I would react.”
So true. “I thought you enjoyed it?”
“Loved it. Can’t get enough of the kink.”
“I guessed you like to watch.”
“You’ll know me completely when the moon is full, Creed. But I don’t want to open that can of worms now. You’ve already tugged my most humiliating secret from me. Enough for tonight, yes?”
A humiliating secret? It ached in his heart she had to have secrets. Idiot wolves. He would make them pay, each and every one of them.
Creed kissed her hard on the neck, her hair billowing over his face. She surrounded him with flesh and desire and erotic need. So much trust she gave him. He winced to think he had not earned it.
For he yet possessed secrets.
But all he could do now was put his desires into touch. To give to her what she gave him.
Tugging down her dress, he palmed her breasts, massaging them, loving the weight of them in his hands. He could suckle the firm globes all night.
Spreading her hands through her hair, she spanned it in a gorgeous veil and let it fall about their heads. It spilled across his face, adorning him with her truths, surrendering her defenses.
His wife rocked her hips upon him, grinding against his erection. Both still clothed, they’d agreed before sitting down that intercourse was not in the terms this evening. They were close, so close to being one, but Blu was yet reluctant. And for good reason, as she’d just revealed.
He could wait. The wait would be worth it.
Blu traced his lip. He sucked in her middle finger, tickling the underside of it, then nudged her hand. She traced her moist finger around her nipple. He followed with his tongue, dancing behind her, taking direction, then mastering her with licks and suckles that stirred up throaty moans.
Drowning in her softness, he didn’t pay attention to the hard slide of fang inside his mouth.
He leaned in to kiss her on the lips, and her palm slapped his chest.
“What?”
“Not like this.” She scrambled to the end of the couch. “Your teeth.”
Creed touched his mouth. Damn. Never before had he needed to struggle so much to keep back his fangs when aroused. “Don’t worry, Blu—”
“I don’t want your bite!” She stood and slid up her dress to cover the rosy dark nipples. “I thought you understood that.”
“I do. It’s just…” Hard to control? He’d always had a handle on it before.
“I’m sorry.” She looked about, at the chocolate-smeared plate, her wig. “I uh…lost the mood. I’m going to shower.”
“Blu, don’t do this. It was an accident. I—It just happens with you. I can’t explain it.”
She double-stepped it up the stairs.
Unwilling to chase her, after her tale of abuse at the hands of her father’s men, Creed remained on the couch. Staring at the ceiling, he cursed this bizarre inability to control what he’d mastered centuries ago.
Why was this happening now?
Was it really Blu who stirred his teeth to descend? And did that mean he needed her blood more than he could imagine?
Chapter Ten
CREED RECEIVED THE CALL from Alexandre just before midnight. With Wolfsbane in hand, he slipped from the house undetected. Blu was in the theater room listening to some music video station. Volume cranked, his secretive getaway was ensured.
Pealing the BMW from the driveway, he made the contact point with Alexandre in less than fifteen minutes. Creed hopped in the unmarked black van already rolling across the tarmac. From the passenger seat, he leaned over to nod to the three vampires in the back.
Revin, Fresno and Merce nodded solemnly. All were outfitted with combat gear and weaponry.
“My information was incorrect,” Alexandre said as he navigated toward the warehouse district in Minneapolis. “I think the fight’s already in progress. We may not get there until after.”
“Damn it.”
They always tried to show up before the blood match occurred. The goal was to waylay the transport van en route to the fight warehouse. That way they could rescue two vampires.
Arriving after meant only one survivor.
“The new snitch is still getting the hang of things.”