by Abby Blake
PUP Squad Alpha 5
Warlock’s Way
Amber Williams thought she was losing her mind—until everything she’d prophesized came true. Learning she’s one of the Oracle’s receptacles was unnerving, if not necessarily surprising, but it’s the warlock and the vampire sent to protect her that creates her most interesting problem.
With a traitor in their midst, Darian Hawkes and Wilson Jones have no idea who to trust. They go off the grid, hiding Amber deep in the jungle. Yet, being so isolated brings a new set of problems. Short on supplies, they manage to make do, but it isn’t until Amber realizes she is a vampire’s only food for hundreds of miles that things take a sexy turn. Discovering that Darian enjoys BDSM is simply icing on the cake.
But will the attraction Amber, Darian, and Wilson feel be a fatal distraction when the traitor brings their idyllic fantasy world crashing down around them?
Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Paranormal
Length: 24,539 words
WARLOCK’S WAY
PUP Squad Alpha 5
Abby Blake
MENAGE EVERLASTING
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting
WARLOCK’S WAY
Copyright © 2012 by Abby Blake
E-book ISBN: 978-1-61926-813-5
First E-book Publication: July 2012
Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
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WARLOCK’S WAY
PUP Squad Alpha 5
ABBY BLAKE
Copyright © 2012
Chapter One
Amber shook her head sharply. Less than a minute ago a seriously weird thought had popped into her head, almost like some sort of vision. She’d dismissed it as more of the same gobbledygook that had filled her mind over the past few weeks.
At least she’d thought it was gobbledygook until a damn vortex exactly like the one from her “premonition” opened in front of the car. She’d slammed her brakes on and now currently sat staring through her front car window at the four men who’d stepped out of it.
“Amber Williams?” one of the men asked.
Okay, so now she knew for certain her brain was broken. Handsome, soldier types did not step through strange swirling tunnel thingies and ask for her by name.
“Uh-huh,” she said with a nod. What could it hurt to confirm who she was? It was very obvious they were some sort of delusion. She smiled slightly. At least she had enough mental fortitude left to create good-looking men. Although, the one who looked like a motorcycle rider and was covered top to toe in black leather and a dark helmet seemed a little out of character even for her wild imagination. Her fantasies usually bent more toward the charming-smile, Armani-wearing guys than the rough-and-ready bad boys.
Tall-dark-and-handsome and his motorcycle buddy stepped closer to the car. The other men went in opposite directions, seemingly alert for some sort of trouble.
“Have I given you names, yet?” she asked in a pleasant voice. They looked confused by her attitude, so she shrugged. They may as well get to the good stuff before she woke up. Although considering she didn’t remember going to sleep, waking up might be a tough ask. Maybe she should have thought harder about her boss’s offer to get her a shrink. It would appear that the relaxing road trip to clear her head and de-stress wasn’t working very well.
“Amber,” helmet guy said in a surprisingly clear voice. Considering the design, the deep whiskey voice should have at least been muffled a bit. “We need to get you to a safe house. Assassins have been sent to kill you.”
Whoa, way to go, imagination. She’d never added intrigue and danger to her fantasies before. This should be a lot of fun. “Seriously?” she asked, trying to play her part of damsel in distress.
* * * *
Wilson Jones didn’t like the way things were going. Amber was way too calm for someone who’d just been told that sort of news. In fact the woman even looked happy.
“I had no idea my imagination was so good. If someone had told me how much fun a breakdown was going to be I would have had one way earlier.”
Well, that explained the attitude, but it left him with another problem. Did they waste time trying to convince her she wasn’t delusional, or did they grab her, get her to safety, and then try to explain? Before he could really decide which way to jump, one of his mission partners, Darian Hawkes, made the decision for him.
“That’s right, princess. We’re your knights in shining armor. Just grab my hand and we’ll show you a life you’ve never even imagined.”
“I don’t know,” she said, frowning suspiciously. Of course the woman would choose now to start being distrustful.
“Amber, sweetheart,” Wilson said as he moved toward her, “we need to get out of the open. We’ll protect you. I promise.”
“How do I know you’re not the assassins?”
Darian seemed out of patience. “Because, princess,” he said as he stepped closer, dropped his arm, and lifted Amber out o
f the car and over his shoulder, “you’re not dead yet.”
Before Wilson could utter a protest, Darian opened a bounce tunnel and stepped through. Unwilling to leave the woman alone with a fellow teammate acting so out of character, Wilson followed.
* * * *
Even four hours later his ears still stung from Benjamin’s yelling. Darian had worked with the guy on and off for years through Deeks Security and couldn’t ever remember a time he’d heard the guy raise his voice—well, not for the type of reaming Darian had gotten. Ronan had called him with a few choice words as well. It didn’t help that Darian himself was pissed off at his own behavior. He wasn’t even certain he knew why he’d reacted the way he had.
“Are you okay?” Amber asked quietly. It had taken less time to convince her that she wasn’t delusional than it had taken Benjamin and Ronan to blister his ears.
“I’m fine,” he said in the same tone of voice he’d been using for months. Everyone else had backed away, but instead Amber took a step closer. She tilted her head, watching him closely for a moment. “What was her name?” she asked as if “I’m fine” translated to some sort of code for “I caught my girlfriend cheating.”
Her name was on the tip of his tongue, but in the last moment he bit back his reply. “None of your business,” he forced out through tightly clenched teeth. Hell, if Ronan could see him now, he’d get that forced vacation time his boss had threatened.
“Ouch, that bad, huh?” Amber said with a knowing smile. Fortunately, before he could come up with a reply that might get his nose broken—something he probably full well deserved—she changed the subject. “I’ve found a heap of staples in the cupboard. I should be able to whip up a decent meal. I just wanted to know if you have any preferences or…you know…allergies.”
“Allergies?”
“Well,” she said with a smile, “Wilson showed me his fangs, so I figure he won’t need me to cook him, ah, anything.” She shrugged happily, apparently not the least bit frightened that she was being protected by a supposedly fictional creature. “You don’t look like a vampire, but judging by that vortex thingy you seemed to control, I’m guessing you’re not human either.”
“No,” he said with a brief half laugh, “I’m not human, but I eat the same types of foods.”
“So I don’t need to worry about two of you noshin’ on my neck while I sleep?” She said it with such a humorous glint in her eyes that he knew she wasn’t really serious.
“This isn’t freaking you out at all, is it?”
She laughed softly. “Oh, I’m freaked out all right.” She crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head slightly as if assessing how much she should say out loud. “It’s just…something inside me knows that you guys are telling the truth. It’s almost like I knew you in another life.” She hesitated, then laughed again. “I still haven’t thrown out the whole breakdown idea, but I’ve never felt more certain of anything in my life.”
* * * *
Three days later boredom was testing all of their tempers, but Wilson was ready to crawl up the walls. He’d never missed technology more in his life, and that was saying something considering he’d been a vampire since before the Wright brothers flew. He, Darian, and Amber had just finished playing yet another game of cards where Amber wiped the floor with them both. He wasn’t positive how she was doing it, but he was beginning to suspect her skill set included some sort of glamor, or magic, or maybe even card-counting ability because the woman almost never lost.
“I’ll just go put something on for dinner,” she said with a smug smile. Wilson couldn’t help but grin at the smart-ass way she pretended to cover her jugular vein. It seemed incredible to be joking with a human about his need for human blood, but that’s exactly what they’d been doing for the past three days. Fortunately, they had a fridge full of blood so he wouldn’t need to be asking any favors.
Amber winked and turned to head into the kitchen, but stopped and glanced over her shoulder at him. She hesitated for so long that he moved toward her. “Are you okay?”
She bit her lip, gave him a slightly confused look, and then asked, “Do the assassins after me look like seven-year-old girls?”
He nodded. “Why?”
“Because one is about to appear in the front yard.”
Wilson moved quickly, his vampiric speed putting him next to Amber in an instant. “Time to go,” he said to Darian as he wrapped his arms around Amber. Darian had the protection wards switched off and the bounce tunnel open within moments. All three of them stepped through together.
Darian used the speed dial on his phone to call back to the safe house. “Ronan, heads up. Pixie about to slip into the front yard.”
“Thanks,” Ronan said a moment before hanging up. He’d always been a man of few words, but Wilson had no doubt that he was already reaching for his flamethrower and glue can. Paranormals had always considered pixies indestructible. At least they had until Ronan Deeks—a human soldier—had thought of a way to slow them down. Wilson still couldn’t quite believe that incinerating a pixie wasn’t enough to stop her, despite having seen it many times in his life. But Ronan’s idea to scatter the ashes and glue the pieces down had been truly inspired. What resulted was a miniature pixie. So far they’d been lucky enough to be able to capture each one they’d come against, but sooner or later the assassins would learn of their tactics and find a way to counter it. Darian hoped it was later, much later. Once pixies realized what could happen, they’d be much more vigilant about avoiding fire. He smiled to himself when it finally dawned on him that it was the pixies’ own arrogance that they could recover from any attack that made the entire thing possible.
“Where are we?” Amber asked, sounding more shaken than she had the day they’d found her.
“This is another one of our safe houses,” Wilson said through his helmet. He’d kept the black leather on inside the other house, but had taken the helmet off. Considering he was a vampire, it was second nature to grab it, and in this case fortuitous, because they were literally standing in full sun. It was unlikely to kill him, but the burns would be immediate, intense, and very painful. Of course the smell of burning flesh wasn’t exactly a turn-on either.
And why the hell he was worried about turn-ons was completely beyond him. He shook his head sharply. Amber was an assignment. Not a date.
“I was right?” Amber asked in such an incredulous voice that he couldn’t help but smile. “I mean, I know what I saw in my head, but…” Her words trailed away as her gaze swung from one man to the other. “The assassins who are after me really look like seven-year-old girls?” They nodded. “And you believed me. Without any proof that I’m not crazy, you believed me anyway?”
“Of course,” Darian said with a reassuring smile, “you’re one of the Oracle’s receptacles. Considering the skills some of the other women have, we’d be stupid to ignore your warning.”
“Oh, okay,” she said, looking far from okay.
“What is it?” Wilson asked, stepping closer. He’d seen Kali, Ava, and Hannah all wearing the same look right before they shared knowledge on something they should have known nothing about.
Amber looked really worried for a moment, glancing between the two men, her confusion quite obvious. “Is Annie, no, is Hannah okay?”
Wilson nodded. “She’s being protected just like you are.”
“No, something’s wrong. Someth—” She cut off, shaking her head. “I don’t understand. Something’s wrong, but somehow it’s not.” She shook her head again, and gave them both a sad smile. “My life was far less complicated a few months ago.”
Wilson had no idea how to respond to that. He remembered well the confusion he’d felt the night he’d woken as a vampire. There were still days when he longed for the simplicity of his human life.
“Let’s get inside,” Darian said as he reached for Amber’s hand. “You’re far safer when we have the protection wards switched on.”
Amber nodded, h
er friendly smile once again firmly in place. Since the moment they’d met her, Amber had seemed to take everything in stride—adapting very quickly to life under protective custody and seemingly happy about the restrictions they’d had to place on her. But it did leave Wilson wondering what was genuine and what was bravado. It had to be very unnerving for a woman who was actually human to suddenly be hunted by paranormal assassins.
Just as they entered the house, Darian’s and Wilson’s phones rang simultaneously. It usually signaled an urgent conference call and quite often bad news. Wilson would have liked to protect Amber from whatever they were about to be told, but since leaving her alone was not an option, he just hoped she couldn’t overhear the conversation through Darian’s phone. At least with his vampire hearing his receiving speaker was set so low that she wouldn’t even be able to hear it if it were pressed to her ear. Warlock hearing, though, was about the same as a human’s.
“Wilson,” he said as he listened to all of the others check in. He counted seven Deeks Security employees, a guy named Jed Mathewson that Wilson assumed was the ex-PUP leader currently helping to protect Hannah, and all ten members of PUP Squad Alpha—including Jason who wasn’t even officially back from emergency family leave yet, so whatever was happening was seriously big.
Wilson’s commanding officer, Benjamin, was succinct and to the point. “We have a security breach. Three hours ago Hannah Long was killed by a pixie assassin. I’ve had reports of two more pixie attacks on houses that were supposedly safe. As of the end of this call, I want everyone off the grid. Dump the technology, assume the safe houses are all compromised, and protect your charge. Report in to me—only me—at headquarters every forty-eight hours. Do not—repeat—do not advise your location to anyone. Avoid all contact with other paranormals, PUP squad members, and Deeks Security personnel.”