Her Vampire Husband

by Michele Hauf

  What a waste of time battling against the werewolves had been. It had gotten him nothing. It had served the vampire tribes no boon. War was merely aggression, a flip of the finger to the opposition.

  If only he could have met Blu centuries ago, and she could have turned his world on its head then.

  Perhaps though, it was best he only met her now. Her lifespan was but two or three centuries. He was glad she was still young, and he had many years to look forward to with her.

  His wife had changed him at a visceral level. He may have been going through the motions by standing up for the peace pact and the rescue team, but only now did he truly understand the devastation such animosity toward one another caused.

  Passing a group of male vampires who hung at the corner of the building sharing clove cigarettes, Creed nodded to a few members of Nava. They addressed him as “my lord,” which he thought now was over-the-top.

  Why had he insisted on the title? He’d used it since the late fifteen hundreds. If he truly desired respect he needed to step down to their level. Or rather, simply join them and not put any on one level or another.

  Things would change within Nava. He’d see to it immediately. Perhaps it was time to hand the reins over to Alexandre, let the youngblood take command. It would give him more time with his wife, and Creed liked that idea.

  He saw vampires from Kila and Zmaj and others here. It was good the various tribes were getting along. One less thing to worry about.

  But he had no doubt they relied upon him to signal the beginning to this war. Out of eyesight of the Council, the tribes were as hungry for blood as were the packs.

  Would they listen if he announced they should step back, let the werewolves have their territories and just shake hands and make up? Old habits died hard.

  This marriage alone could have never facilitated something so immense. While he’d initially played along, since falling in love with Blu he’d developed hopes it could have at least started something, the way a small spark often became a fire. Wouldn’t a wave of peace be insanely fine?

  He was an old man. He wanted to settle into life and love his wife for days innumerable.

  Up ahead he noticed a group of weres restraining one particular wolf. He looked drunk, but as Creed paused on the curb to observe, he realized the wolf was frenzied, in a rage. Shoving at his cohorts and tugging down his red plaid shirt, he tried for a modicum of calm, but something kept pressing him to shout and swear loudly.

  “That’s him,” one of the wolves said acidly.

  The entire group looked to Creed.

  Shit. He could take a were or two, but a whole group? Good thing a few tribe members stood close.

  Creed approached the weres. “Evening, gentlemen. You here for the banquet?”

  “You’re Lord Saint-Pierre?” the one they’d been restraining asked. He was brawny and huffing, having exerted himself greatly already. His bald head sweated.

  “I am. And you are?” But Creed knew the answer quickly after asking.

  “Ryan.”

  “Ah, yes. Eugene, isn’t it?”

  “The werebitch’s presumed mate,” the wolf spat.

  “Yes, she mentioned you once or twice.”

  The wolf fisted the air. His buddies had the wherewithal to secure him at the arms, but not tightly.

  “If you have laid a single tooth to her I will rip your head off!”

  “No teeth. Not yet,” Creed said calmly.

  He was baiting the beast. But he wouldn’t back down from the rabid thing. Who had let him on the property in the first place?

  “I’ll thank you to keep your thoughts from my wife, wolf. She’s mine now. Find yourself another dog to shove around.”

  “Why, you bloody flesh-pricker!”

  The wolf’s cohorts let go of him, laughing and ribbing him on.

  Ryan lunged at Creed. They went down on the tarmac, the man growling and punching Creed in the gut. He knew wolves fought dirty, and if he gave the man a chance to wolf out, he’d never match him.

  Kneeing his opponent, Creed kicked him off and jumped up to follow through. Suit coat tight across his shoulder, he shrugged it off.

  The werewolves circled the fight with interest, but did not interfere. Creed sensed the vamps moving in, quieter than the wolves, but keenly interested.

  He did not require a tribe member to step in, but he was glad to have them close.

  He’d imagined the things he’d like to do to this bastard wolf in repayment for the pain he’d caused Blu and countless vampires. But he would not deliver a mortal wound, not here on designated neutral ground.

  Vengeance in his wife’s name demanded he kill the wolf; honor insisted he not.

  Dodging a punch, Creed noted the wolf was slow because of his upper body. There was a point a man could develop too many muscles. He came up and elbowed the bruiser in the ribs. The move didn’t even force a gasp from the wolf.

  Blood spilled down the back of Creed’s throat. The wolf had crushed his nose with an iron fist. He spit to the side.

  “Had enough, longtooth?” Ryan barked. “Some tribe leader you are. Can’t even stand against one wolf. And I’m not even breaking out the big bad yet.”

  Creed spit again, and the wolf dodged to avoid the bloody spittle. He used that moment of inattention to kick him high at the shoulder. The move sent the wolf flying against the brick wall twenty feet away.

  “Nice one,” a vampire called.

  Yes, but Creed could have laid him out if he’d the power of his magic behind the kick. The shackles were yet too apparent, though, to consider such a stupid move.

  The wolf shook off the hit and growled, flexing his arms in a he-man pose. And then he began to shift.

  Not good. A vampire never liked to take on a werewolf without proper weapons. Yet Creed did not wish for Wolfsbane. No, that would only serve as the rally to battle.

  Somewhere at the club’s back door, a female yelled. A flash of violet skirts distracted Creed momentarily.

  “Stay back!” he shouted to Blu.

  She’d rushed out the back door and barged through the clutch of vampires. Making eye contact with Alexandre, Creed nodded once.

  Alexandre secured Blu.

  “Call off your thug,” Ryan growled, mid-shift. “Let her go!” His face elongated and it grew caninelike. Fangs descended. His shirt ripped down the seams. Hair sprouted across his shoulders and down his arms.

  Creed willed down his teeth and lunged for the wolf. If he were close, it would be more difficult for the beast to lash out with those deadly talons. What werewolves lacked in agility, vampires made up for with speed and stealth.

  Besides, he’d had a crash course avoiding claws just last night. He was up for this.

  The enraged werewolf howled to the sky. The entire pack answered with short, yipping howls. Completely shifted, Ryan now stood two heads higher than Creed. His shoulders had broadened and dark hair covered his body. He stomped, flicking his head back and howling—and eyed Creed.

  Creed raised a fist, and connected directly with Ryan’s jaw. Bones cracked.

  As did glass.

  Spatters of liquid silver beaded in the air. The world seemed to slow as Creed withdrew his fist. But the wolf didn’t snap at him with an angry growl. Instead, a silver bead hit the werewolf on the bloody snout and it yowled, slapping at the contact.

  “Hell’s mercy.” Creed flipped over his hand. The ring had broken, spattering liquid silver into the air.

  “It’s silver!” one of the wolves shouted. The pack dispersed but did not go far.

  “Bastard’s not fighting fair!”

  “No, I…” Creed looked to Blu. He could not hear her over the growls and wild yips, but her mouth was open wide, screaming.

  For him or her lover?

  The werewolf dropped, convulsing before him. The silver would track his veins and explode the beast from within.

  “He’s killed him. Take the longtooth!”

  At Bl
u’s father’s direction the pack moved in for the kill. Wolves charged Creed and others went after Alexandre. The vampire was no match for the pack. Blu, too, was taken and wrangled by wolves.

  A fist to his jaw sent Creed stumbling. A kick to his shin dropped him to his knees. Blood dribbled down his chin. The talon slash across his chest was only half-healed and hurt like hell.

  “Take his head!” Amandus announced.

  “No!” Blu raged, struggling against her captors. “You promised!”

  The father looked to his struggling daughter and nodded.

  “Wait,” Amandus shouted, as a wolf transformed, talons growing out its fingers. “Leave that longtooth alive.”

  The last thing Creed remembered was a foot connecting with his jaw.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “YOU MADE YOUR BARGAIN,” Amandus said to Blu as she was secured in the back of the waiting SUV.

  Silver shackles about her wrists—lined on the interior with leather—would not harm her, but would drain her energy. She couldn’t struggle if she wished.

  Indeed, she had made a deal with the devil to save Creed’s life.

  “You go back on the bargain,” she screamed at her father, “and I’ll come after you myself.”

  The old man smirked and slammed the door shut.

  Blu shuffled into the darkness but was grabbed by two strong hands. “Welcome home, Princess. Your father thinks I’ve potential in the pack. We’ll be seeing a lot of each other is what I hear.”

  It was not the familiar Ridge who grabbed her, but the creepy, lecherous new recruit, Diaz.

  CREED DRAGGED HIMSELF up by the brick wall. Blood filled his mouth—his own. He spit to the side.

  All about him chaos reigned. Vampires fought werewolves. Bladed weapons were slashed through the air, and wooden bullets were fired at the vampires. The occasional splash of holy water only burned flesh if the vampire had been baptized. None in Nava had been, but there were other tribes Creed worried about. A baptized vampire could not survive a holy wound.

  Remarkably, no weres came after him. They must think him already dead.

  The last thing he remembered was Blu shouting and struggling with her father’s men.

  Had they taken her?

  He raced inside and toward the banquet hall, shoving aside werewolves and vampires alike. The very war they’d tried to prevent had been set loose tonight.

  Because of him.

  He’d not thought about the ring when he’d been fighting Ryan. It was too insane that it had broken. Of course, the glass wasn’t as strong as titanium. He hadn’t wished the wolf dead, no matter his vicious attack, or his fronting the blood matches.

  If Blu had for one disillusioned moment loved Eugene Ryan, he would never kill him. Beat the crap out of him, sure, but not kill him.

  “She must hate me. Where is she?”

  Havoc bustled inside the ballroom beneath the grand chandeliers. Vampires went after werewolves, fangs bared. Weres shifted and slashed out with talons. Through the darkness and sparking lights, Creed spied Amandus. The old man observed the chaos from the edge of the room, peering around the doorway.

  Creed crossed the room and shoved the man across the hall and into a dark corner. “Where is she?”

  “Safe from you. Unhand me, longtooth.”

  The old man’s eyes glowed yellow. Did he think to shift before Creed? Bring it on.

  “I’ll see to Blu’s safety,” Creed hissed. “She could get hurt in this havoc.”

  “She is secure. And she is no longer yours.”

  “No longer—? She is my wife!”

  “Drop the game, Saint-Pierre. You put up a good show, but you are released from your vows. I’ll burn the marriage contract. I’ll not see any daughter of mine wed to a vampire.”

  “Too late, old man. You were the one to push her into my arms. I love her. I’ll treat her far better than you ever could. Why didn’t your men finish me off?”

  Her father grimaced and spat. “She begged for your life.”

  “What? When?”

  “Earlier. She knew this would happen. Just as you have known it would, so drop the act. We’ve both now got the war we have strived for.”

  “Not my war,” Creed said through clenched teeth. “Nor is it Blu’s. Where is she?”

  “On her way to becoming a broodmare for the pack. As she should be. Idiot bitch. To think she was in love with a longtooth?”

  Creed fisted Amandus at the jaw. The wolf groped for a hold, but slid down the wall. Gripping him by the neck, Creed lifted him and leaned over his face.

  “She told me how you treated her. How dare you? She is not a commodity to hand out as a prize to your warriors.”

  The wolf cracked a smirk and Creed squeezed his neck. The vein pounded against his palm. His fangs lowered.

  “No wolf will ever again use Blu, do you understand that?”

  “If you go to her, longtooth, the bargain she made with me is broken and you’re dead.”

  Creed squeezed harder until his thumb broke through flesh. Hot blood spurted across his face. “You first.”

  He lunged to bite the wolf’s neck.

  CREED FOUND ALEXANDRE bent over outside behind a garbage Dumpster. His throat had been slashed, exposing muscle and spine, yet no vampire was going to die that easily.

  He couldn’t talk until the gaping wound healed. Creed shucked off his bloodied shirt and tied it about Alexandre’s throat.

  “They’ve got Blu,” he said. “I suspect they’ve taken her to the Northern pack’s compound. That’s about an hour drive beyond my estate. I’m going after her.”

  Alexandre gripped his forearm and shook his head violently.

  Creed pressed firmly against the makeshift bandage. “Don’t move so much. Let the wound heal.”

  “Just…let me die.”

  Creed swallowed back an angry refusal. He’d said the same thing after Creed had rescued him from the blood match.

  “No. I will not let you die. You are a good man, Alex. You’ve far too much to live for. What about Veronica?”

  Alexandre winced but nodded. Creed could feel the man’s flesh knit together beneath his touch as he held the wound closed.

  Alexandre managed to whisper. “She’s not worth it.”

  “Veronica?”

  “No. Your wolf.”

  “Not worth sacrificing my position with the tribe? Not worth my being ostracized?”

  “Exactly,” Alexandre croaked.

  “Alexandre, think about the women you have loved. What of your beloved wife?”

  The tattered vampire nodded his head. “Maria.”

  The reason the man was a vampire was because of the woman he had loved so long ago. His wife had been raped, tortured and murdered. Alexandre, in a rage, had taken his revenge, knowing the hangman’s noose would be his reward. He’d done it out of love. Vampires, excited at the mortal’s revenge, had claimed him after that.

  “You are fortunate to have known love, Alexandre, and to have it once again. It is a reason you must not ask for death now.”

  The vampire nodded, conceding weakly.

  “I have lived almost a thousand years, can you imagine? This is it, Alexandre. Love. And I’m not going to lose it. And if Blu does choose to return to her pack and abandon me, I won’t let it happen until I know she is safe. I’m going. When you are able, you gather as many from Nava as you can and retreat. We aren’t prepared for this battle. We have to regroup and strategize.”

  “Not alone,” Alexandre managed, though his words gurgled with blood.

  “Yes, alone. It’s the safest way without drawing attention. I’ll find her, or die trying.” He slapped Alexandre on the shoulder and took off across the parking lot.

  A wolf, half-shifted, lolled by the trunk of a Mercedes as he neared the BMW. Creed approached, prepared to kill it, but when it looked up at him, Creed saw one of its eyes had been torn out.

  “I had no idea my men had become so vicious.” He ba
cked away and got in the car. “They’ve become blood crazed. This fight will escalate to war if we don’t stop it.”

  Backing from the lot, he peeled onto the road. There was no time to waste. He stopped at his estate, ran inside and grabbed Wolfsbane. He made the drive to the compound in a half hour and parked two miles out on a dark gravel road.

  SWINGING WOLFSBANE through the cool evening air, Creed stalked down a ditch and across a barren field. The wolves would smell him coming. He was covered in wolf blood, his own and, as well, Alexandre’s. Would they scent their principal’s blood on him, too?

  He swiped a palm over his bloodied chest, but it would do little good. He should have washed before coming here. He hadn’t time now.

  He had to reach the compound quickly, and without being noticed. A spell to summon the wind would keep his scent hidden.

  He began to summon, and the first pinch of iron to his skull stopped him cold. Creed fell to his knees. “Fuck.”

  No magic. Not ever again.

  He shook off the nerve-abrading pain and stood. “Guess I’ll have to do things the old-fashioned way.”

  He’d charged vanguards many times. Usually with dozens of soldiers flanking him. Pray tonight the vanguard was all sleeping inside the compound.

  Breaking into a run, he dashed across the lumpy field. Chunks of dried earth made footing difficult, but his steps were so quick he barely touched ground before pushing off in another stride. Beating a fierce pace, he gained the massive cement compound.

  Entering at ground level would be suicide. He sighted an iron ladder attached to the side of the compound and leaped for it, landing five rungs up. Climbing quickly, he hurdled over the roof edge and landed on the flat roof with a roll, but did not come up on his feet. Instead he crouched beyond the demarcation where the security light beamed.

  Taking the cement roof ledge in careful steps, he avoided the light as it flashed around again. He couldn’t scent Blu as easily as a wolf could.

  If only he’d bitten her. With her blood in his system, his heartbeat would synch to hers when she was near. He would know her presence.