Drake the Defender

by Rhiannon Neeley

Clive rubbed his head again. “You might as well. That’s what they’re all waiting for.”

  Grace turned and faced the crowd. “Sit down, Harry. You’ll get your chance,” she said levelly without looking at him. Grace took a breath. “You have all heard the rumors, now you’re going to hear the truth.” She let her gaze travel over them, these people who had voted for her in the last election. Every one of them seemed to be holding their breath, their eyes glittering.

  “I had sex in the jail,” Grace said.

  There were some whispers, some “I told you’s”.

  Grace cleared her throat. “But—I didn’t have sex with a prisoner.”

  “Yes you did!” Harry looked like he was ready to blow his top.

  Grace ignored him. “I admit that I did wrong, only because what I did, I did in the wrong place. The other person involved was in the process of being released. Another five minutes and he would have been as free as you all.”

  Harry left his seat and came to the front of the room. “And you couldn’t wait to let him in your pants, could you Grace? Some freak in black leather and fangs for teeth and you had to have him, when there are men like me just waiting for the chance.”

  “What?” Grace said. What was Harry saying? That he wanted her? He’d never given any hint that he’d felt that way toward her. Was that why he was so determined to tear her apart?

  “That will be enough!” A voice boomed from the back of the room.

  All eyes turned toward the man in black who strode up the center aisle as if he owned the place.

  Grace couldn’t keep the smile off of her face. Drake was really a force to deal with when he was mad. As soon as he was within reach, Grace threw her one good arm around his neck and kissed him deeply.

  “Look at her!” Harry yelled. “Brazen! In front of all of you!”

  God, he tastes so good, Grace thought, pulling away so that she could drown in those whiskey eyes of his. “I missed you,” she whispered.

  “You’ll never miss me again,” he said. He slid his arm around her waist and turned to face the grumbling mob.

  “I have never seen so many stupid people gathered in one place before. Amazing,” Drake said.

  Grace’s eyes widened. If he kept this tone, they wouldn’t make it out of this room without bruises. “Drake…” she warned.

  He squeezed her against him. “Shh,” he said, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

  “You better be explaining yourself, boy,” Harry said, taking a step toward them.

  His face made of stone, Drake looked directly at him. “Don’t even think about it.”

  “Okay, let’s just call this whole thing over and done with,” Grace said, moving to put herself between the two men. A little voice in her head warned her that this was a dangerous position. The last time she had stepped in between Drake and Harry, she’d gotten shot.

  Drake spoke to the crowd again. “I called you ‘stupid’ because you have all turned on the strongest woman I have ever known. She has strength of character as well as strength of the heart.

  “Sure,” he continued, “she slipped a little bit.” He poked himself in the chest. “That was my fault. But anyone of you who hasn’t slipped at one time or another, raise your hand because you are a saint.”

  Not one person raised their hand. To Grace’s amazement, the whole room had fallen silent, including Harry.

  “Grace Shanley is probably the best Sheriff you’ll ever have and you people want to dig her grave and throw her in it with your words.” He squeezed Grace again. “If it wouldn’t have been for her, I would be dead. She took a bullet…” he pointed at Harry. “—his bullet, for me. She’d do the same for any one of you.”

  Grace felt tears stinging her eyes. She did not want to cry in front of these people. When Drake had said he would defend her, he had meant it. Her heart swelled in her breast, her love for him taking on another facet.

  “Since you people are crazy enough to let her go as your Sheriff, I’ll tell you what I’m going to do,” Drake said. “I’m going to take her off your hands and out of the equation.” Drake turned to face her.

  Grace’s stomach flooded with butterflies as she looked up into his smiling face.

  “Grace Shanley,” he said. “Will you marry me?”

  Grace felt like she was going to pass out. “Are you kidding?” she asked.

  “Most definitely not.” He dropped down on one knee. “Grace,” he said, his voice serious. “Marry me. Please.”

  “Yes.”

  Drake stood and swept her into his arms, spinning her so fast she was dizzy. When he finally planted her on her feet, she was breathless.

  “This mean you’re resigning from office?” Harry asked.

  Grace looked at him. All the piss had gone out of him. Harry looked like a deflated balloon. “Yes Harry. It does.” She addressed the crowd. “As of this moment, I, Grace Shanley, resign from the office of Sheriff of Roan County, Kentucky.”

  Clive banged the gavel. “This meeting’s adjourned.”

  Grace looked up at Drake. He was smiling, his fangs gleaming. So damn sexy, Grace thought. “Take me home, Drake,” she said. “Just take me home.”

  “I’ll take you anywhere, and anyway, you want,” Drake said.

  Epilogue

  One month later…

  Grace felt a breath of air brush over her skin. She opened her eyes to find the bedroom dark. The bed creaked with movement. “Drake?” Grace raised her head, not fully awake. She was almost accustomed to their bedroom here at the Unkindness. Actually it was a full suite. She still couldn’t get over how large the compound where the Ravens resided was. But right now … something was different. Where was the blanket? Grace tried to sit up. Couldn’t.

  A rush of heat flowed through her when she realized that her wrists were handcuffed to the headboard. The bed creaked again as Drake moved between her legs. Grace quivered in anticipation as the first warm breath drifted across her upper thigh. “What are you doing down there?” she asked, feeling him settle in at the foot of the bed, centering himself between her legs.

  “Prisoners are not allowed to speak,” he said, his hands moving up her thighs.

  “Bite me, Drake Raven.”

  She felt his fingers brush over her moist cleft, then spread her folds. “I just might. You do look good enough to eat.” With the first swipe of his tongue, warm against her clit, Grace was drawn down again into the sea of passion that her love floated upon. As the waves of pleasure matched the undulations of Drake’s oh-so-experienced tongue, Grace had only one fleeting thought that was coherent.

  Life was so good.

  * * * *

  Drake hummed in his throat, Grace’s nectar was too good to resist. She loved the bondage sessions, loved to experiment. He loved to please her in every way that he could. As he ran his tongue over her slick, silky folds he drank her in. Every soft moan that issued from her perfect mouth only served to make his cock pulse with the need to be buried inside her hot, tight pussy.

  But he could wait. She was too delicious.

  He caught her bud between his teeth, nibbling. She gasped, rocking her hips up. Drake chuckled. She was almost there, almost ready for the wave to break. He growled deep in his throat and drew her clit into his mouth, suckling gently on it at first. He slid one finger inside her, felt her muscles clench, then his mouth pulled her into oblivion. Gasping, creaming, she came, straining against the handcuffs, her body shuddering under him.

  As he licked her juice from her peach, Drake couldn’t believe that he had almost lost her to a gunshot. Never again.

  He would be there to defend her.

  Always.

  * * * *

  Rogue Shanley sat at the biggest kitchen table he had ever seen and cracked open a beer. It was one in the morning and he and Colin had just finished a training session with Drake’s brother, Holt.

  Holt, mountain of a man that he was, sat across the table looking mean as ever. But no beer
for him. When he poured chocolate syrup in his milk and started to stir it with a spoon, Rogue just shook his head and took a cool swig of his beer.

  “Thought you were out to kill us there, Holt,” Colin said. He was sitting beside Rogue, a beer in front of him.

  Holt just looked at them both for a moment. “You’re both still breathing,” he said. Then he downed half of his glass of chocolate milk in one gulp.

  Rogue lit a cigarette and leaned back in his chair. He would be going on an assignment soon. Holt had told John, the head of the Unkindness, that Rogue was almost ready and that he and Colin would make a good team.

  Rogue sighed. For the first time in his life, he felt like he was where he belonged. Here at the Unkindness, life was stranger than fiction, but damn he sure wasn’t bored.

  He remembered when Grace had told him that she and Drake were getting married. He had been happy for her—she deserved a break in her life—but he had also wondered just what the heck he was going to do. After Dillon’s funeral, a week passed while Grace took care of everything that she had to take care of before she and Drake got married. Then one night, the three of them had been sitting in the living room, discussing the future when Drake had questioned Rogue about his unusual name.

  Grace had explained that Chase, his father, had wanted him to stand out from the crowd. To be noticed. So he had been named Rogue Raven Shanley.

  Drake’s eyes lit up. ‘Raven,’ he said. ‘Well, I guess you’ll fit right in, won’t you?’

  When Drake and Grace had left Kentucky and settled in here at the Unkindness, the Ravens had offered Rogue a place to live and thanks to Drake and Colin, a career.

  Rogue Raven Shanley—vampire hunter.

  He still couldn’t believe it. Though his coloring didn’t match that of all the Raven men—he was light as they were dark—he seemed to fit in all right.

  And working with Colin was a hoot. Where Rogue was rowdy, Colin was proper. Rogue was a “good ole southern boy” down to his frayed blue jeans, where Colin was “lawyer-dressed” most of the time. Rogue drank beer, Colin sipped wine.

  Except for right now.

  “How’s your brew there, Buddy?” Rogue asked, nodding at Colin’s half empty beer bottle.

  “You know,” Colin said, his eyebrows drawing together as if he were going to give a serious speech, “it’s really quite good.” He looked at Rogue. “Maybe tomorrow, I can get you to try a glass of Merlot.”

  Rogue screwed up his face. “Not in this lifetime.”

  Holt stood up from the table, his now empty glass in his bear-paw of a hand. “Sleep should be on your mind right now,” he said, his voice so deep it rumbled. “Not booze.”

  Rogue and Colin both raised their beer bottles and at the same time said, “Yes, Daddy.” Then they looked at each other and burst out laughing.

  Rogue’s eyes were watering from laughing so hard, but he still caught the stern look on Holt’s face just before he left the kitchen.

  Holt didn’t worry him though. Right now, Rogue was comfortable where he was—in his mind and his life.

  Rogue Raven Shanley wasn’t worried about anything at all.

  * * * *

  Colin liked a good laugh and it seemed that if he kept working with Rogue, there were going to be a lot of good times ahead.

  Now that he had been taken completely into the fold of the Unkindness, Colin was excited about life. True, being their lawyer had its pluses, but actually being one of the hunters was being on an adventure.

  Colin was still having a little trouble getting used to his fangs. He’d had to have them shortened once. He kept catching his lower lip with the upper canines. Now they fit together perfectly, but it was a major change for him.

  At least with Rogue, he didn’t feel so ancient. He was only thirty-eight but sometimes, when you led a structured life like he had, thirty-eight felt elderly.

  Colin’s life was changing all right.

  And in his opinion, it was about damn time.

  * * * *

  Holt Raven entered his suite and closed the door behind him. It had been a long day and training Rogue and Colin was wearing on him a little. He shrugged his shoulders, working out the kinks as he headed toward the bathroom for a hot shower. His muscles weren’t aching though—it was being here at the Unkindness for so long that had him wanting to stretch.

  Holt wasn’t used to being home for this long. He liked being on the road, craved the action. He’d been here now for a little over a month and was aching to get back into the fray.

  But the Horde of Vampires had been quiet recently. John and Eric had both been checking headlines and surfing the ‘Net, looking for reports of clusters of disappearances and strange deaths. It was uncommonly quiet.

  Hold shed his T-shirt and dropped it in the hamper in his bathroom. He turned on the shower, letting it warm up to a skin-reddening heat.

  As he stood in front of the mirror, untying the band from his hair, he sighed.

  He knew that the Horde wouldn’t be quiet for long. Sooner or later, a new Clutch of vampires would surface and then it would be time for him to go to work.

  He was going to have to work on taming Rogue and Colin down a bit. They played off each other well, but as hunters, they were still green. They needed to get serious about the job.

  Killing vampires was not a game.

  Holt stepped out of his pants and added them to the hamper before stepping into the spray of steaming water. He reached up and adjusted the showerhead to a pounding massage setting and ducked his head into it.

  A gnawing feeling started in his gut. It was a familiar nuisance. It was a sign that trouble was brewing somewhere.

  As he raked his fingers through his hair, he knew John would be calling them all to his office to tell them that a Clutch had surfaced. Holt was ready. Holt’s mouth formed a smile and the gnawing feeling deepened.

  It would be soon.

  Soon.

  The End

  About the Author:

  Rhiannon Neeley has thought about writing all of her life and has now finally made time for it, along with learning to play an Irish jig on her fiddle. Rhiannon is a very busy woman who has her fingers in almost every pie but she does make time to reply to email if you give her a day or two.

  You can email her at Rhiannon@rhiannonneeley.com . For those of you with Irish roots, Rhiannon's 'Neeley' line hails from County Tyrone, Ireland. She has done quite a bit of research into her family tree. And of course when it come to romance, Rhiannon likes them hot and steamy and preferably paranormal.

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