by Jo Penn
With that, Carlo came at him. Chane used every defensive move he knew, improvised where he should, hissed, and dropped his talons out. He heard rather than really saw a car pull up and feet lightly touching pavement as someone moved fast toward them. Hoping it wasn’t his brother—Carlo would slaughter the young vampire just to get at Chane—he upped his fight, but knew he wasn’t a match for someone of Carlo’s capabilities and skills, and found himself hitting the ground hard, Carlo on top of him, raising a syringe.
“Get off him,” a deep voice growled low and lethal, sending a shiver through Chane.
Carlo was suddenly gone from on top of Chane. He barely had time to look over before the fighting had begun. Whoever the man was who stepped in, he was big and well-muscled, and looked very similar to the man who had stepped out of the limousine at the vampire estate. Chane sat up, gingerly touching the back of his head and wincing at the lump there.
“I’m training to be a healer. May I check your head, Mr. Taunton?” The driver crouched beside Chane. “Prince Dominic is an excellent fighter. He will easily detain the assailant.”
If Chane wasn’t aware of Carlo’s talents, he would have believed the driver. But Chane doubted Prince Dominic was a match for Carlo. The driver checked the wound and advised rest and ice. Chane rose with the driver’s assistance, his vision blurring a moment before his head cleared. When he looked over, he saw that the driver might have been correct after all. Carlo was backtracking as the big, white-blond male kept knocking him down. When another man stepped in, possibly to corner Carlo, he must have decided to cut his losses and get out of there. Pulling out a gun, he shot at the men and was gone fast, shooting a glare at Chane before he ran into the forest.
“Dammit!”
“Want me to chase him down, Dominic?”
Dominic glanced over at Chane and the driver, sniffing the air. “No. Call Baron, the pack, and the Durand and Armstrong covens. Alert them to a creature on the loose attacking others.” Dominic strode over to Chane and tilted his head up. “Are you injured?”
“Non.” Chane stepped back from the large creature.
Frowning deeply at Chane, Dominic looked around as though trying to work something out. He looked back at Chane for a few minutes, then shook his head, and began issuing orders while moving Chane along with a hand at his back. At the long stretch limousine, he opened the door and ushered Chane inside.
“Marty, help Cecil clear out the Armstrong service car, and then get him in the front with you. I’m going to make a few calls before the scent and trail disappears.”
“On it, boss.”
Chane sat quietly. His head pounded, but he was more concerned with the fact he had failed, yet again, to capture Carlo. It was obvious to him he was useless at setting traps, and certainly not good at capturing. Maybe it was time to tell someone else. For over a year, he had been trying to capture Carlo, draw him out, and failed miserably each time, though he had managed to evade being captured himself, which was Carlo’s purpose.
The big man, Prince Dominic, sat down opposite and placed a phone to his ear. He spent the next few minutes speaking to a number of different creatures regarding Carlo and, while doing this, pressed a bottled water into Chane’s hand and gave him the motion to drink. As soon as the creature finished talking, he tossed his phone aside and was suddenly in Chane’s face, sniffing his neck and purring.
“Mine. Mate.”
Merde! The situation had gone from horrific failure to abysmal mess!
Chapter Three
His mate was exotically beautiful, a mix of Asian and Caucasian. Dominic was fascinated, wanting to touch and trace every feature, study every inch of the man the Fates had destined to be Dominic’s—just his, his love, his soul mate.
Except the creature wasn’t responding to Dominic as a paranormal mate should. As the man wasn’t human, nor a creature that had difficulties knowing their mate, Dom was at a loss as to why. Looking into his vampire’s beautiful, light brown eyes fringed by long dark lashes, he was further disappointed and confused to see there was wariness and irritation.
Well, damn, that was a letdown.
After scenting his mate yesterday at the Durand coven and not finding the creature, losing the scent, Dominic ditched the land dispute meeting and harassed Misha, the pompous vamp git whom Dom actually liked stirring and hanging out with. Finally, Misha introduced Dominic to some vampire named Michael. The poor creature squeaked and hid behind one of the security people, shaking when Dom glared at him for not being the one who smelled like his mate.
It had been a bit of a slap upside the head for Dominic. He didn’t like frightening defenseless little creatures. So he took a few deep, calming breaths and used his soothing gift on himself. It worked, marginally. He just had to keep using his gift to remain calm.
Misha next led Dominic to Chane’s suite as his name was mentioned as having been in the monitoring room and a possible for his mate. As soon as Misha opened the door, Dom growled, body coming alive with needs and demanding he track and claim his mate. Unfortunately, his mate wasn’t there, and Misha had taken Dominic into his office where a young vampire was bopping his head to bright green headphones. Misha flicked the headphones off and told Dom to sniff the young vamp, which he did, and was surprised to scent a similarity to his mate’s.
“Your mate’s younger brother. Archer Taunton, who has been following Chane across the States for the past year and a bit.”
The young vampire looked between the two of them. “Ah, mate? Where is Chane, anyway, Prince Misha? You said—”
“At the Armstrong coven. I will have security take you there—”
“Nah, I’m cool.” Archie jumped up, a big grin on his face, and slung a backpack over his shoulder. “I’ve got my moped. I want Chane to try it out with me. He’s gonna hate it!”
The young creature took off, and Misha ordered security to follow him, but remain back, out of the way. Misha explained that Archie had a unique gift and was talented in its use. As an aura reader, Archie could see someone’s nature, their intentions, what lies they told, and a lot more about a creature. Most covens would love to make him a permanent member, but as his brother was moving so much and Archie following, the young vampire wasn’t fulfilling his duties and was in trouble for that. Xavier had negotiated a deal with Chane via Mason Armstrong to keep both here, as Mason wanted Chane’s skills.
By the end of it, Dominic was panting, confused, and ready to chase his mate down. Drake, Dominic’s older littermate and the Crown Prince of the Sanchez pride, arrived, and after a discussion with Misha, Drake asked Dom if he wanted to go to the Armstrong coven and claim his mate, or wait until they returned.
Dominic said no. Most paranormals, when finding their mate, hunted them down and claimed them. The more powerful mate, or the one with the resources, would keep the other mate and act as protector. Dom was powerful and he had an entire pride to assist him in protecting his mate. With feline shifters, they had a short time in which to claim their mate and bond, a mere few days. It helped to claim immediately, and these days, there were drugs to extend the amount of time, and stop the creature from overheating and turning feral. After hearing how devoted Archie was, that Chane kept moving away and was in demise, Dom wanted to read his mate’s dossier, which was basically a bio of a creature. He felt the need to understand more about his mate and what was going on in the creature’s life at present. He wanted to gain an understanding, and he would like to speak to Mason and the doctor looking after his mate. Dominic was also very close to his littermates, other siblings, and cousins. He understood the need to connect, and Archie was pining for the closeness of family and sad that his brother was in demise, dying.
Taking all that into account, Dominic thought he’d end up the relaxed one of the family who thought things out, considered, and took his time where necessary. He took the medicinal shit that kept him cooled down and kept his distance, but stayed in touch with Misha.
Considering
feline shifters had such a short window of time to claim their mate before suffering painful side effects—only forty-eight hours—specific drugs had been designed to reduce and control the mating heat. This allowed a feline shifter more time before claiming. There were other drugs that also eased the mating heat and the need to claim entirely out of the feline shifter’s system if it were not possible to claim their mate.
Unfortunately, his mate went and left straight away this morning, and Dominic had had enough. He needed to claim and bond with his mate, spend time with him, form a connection.
Now Chane winced when Dom sunk his hands into his hair. Immediately, he stopped and carefully felt around and found a lump at the back of his mate’s head, beneath dark hair which was styled in a pompadour.
“We are mates, Chane. I scented you yesterday at the Durand coven.”
“I ne scent pas.” Chane firmly but carefully removed Dominic’s hands, his beautiful light brown eyes watchful, distant. “Je have…”
Dominic waited until Chane simply shrugged in a Gaelic fashion and raised his hands helplessly.
“You don’t scent me? At all or as your mate?” This definitely required clarification.
“Incident.” Chane nodded decisively.
“Umm, okay? What incident?”
The vampire’s eyes flashed with irritation. Right, he was annoying his mate. Felines didn’t like to annoy their mates. They liked to make them happy, pamper, pet, and love on them, as well as take care of and protect them. Dom decided to back off a bit and first understand his mate a little before demanding answers. One he did need to know, though.
“You knew your attacker, mate. Who is he?”
For a moment, Chane looked as though he were going to tell Dominic, but instead closed his mouth and looked away. He would have pressed, but they had arrived at the W&W coven, which was closest and where he wanted his mate checked for injuries.
Knowing nothing about the creature who had run his mate’s car off the road and attacked him, Dominic wasn’t taking any chances and got Chane inside and straight to a healer’s room where he ordered a witch healer to check his vampire over. Chane protested, and Dominic stood firm, desperately wanting to run his hands over his vamp and sooth him—and yeah, claim him—but as soon as he stepped close, the man flashed his fangs and hissed at him.
“What happened?” Mason strode in carrying a computer tablet. “I was told you attacked Chane.”
Dominic growled. “I did not attack my mate. Another vampire did, running one of your service cars off the road. I need to speak to Cecil. He’s a witness. But more importantly, my mate was injured.”
“Mate? Right, I see. Chane, would you please sit on the bed so healer Tamra can—”
“Non, be fine.”
“Huh?” Healer Tamra frowned. “What is fine?”
“Chane’s English is not the best.” Mason sighed. “And he is pissy.”
Now Dominic could have taken a swipe at the wizard for disrespecting his mate, but hell, Mason was right. Chane’s English sucked monkey balls, and he was a pissy little vamp for an ex-monk. It was time to deal with his vampire, get him medical attention, and investigate this situation.
Dominic got in his mate’s space and used his gift to sooth the many ruffles the creature seemed to have. It took ten minutes, a few gentle pets of the man’s arms, speaking low and soothing in French, and reassuring Chane he would take care of everything before Chane lost some of his vamp coolness and allowed Dominic to place him on the healer’s bench. Dom took advantage, giving in to his urges to be close to his mate, to breathe him in, and touch. He did so without pressuring and kept it light, unobtrusive, and noticed Chane no longer tensing with Dom’s presence.
Staying close, he encouraged Chane to answer the healer’s questions whenever his mate got that pissy attitude, soothed any issues, and enjoyed observing and beginning to understand his vampire. The creature was fascinating to watch and interact with. Though he put on a put out attitude and got snappish, he wasn’t pretentious. He was a little disinterested in forming friendships and bonds, and was just a touch reserved at times.
All of his mate fascinated him, had him aching to mate and have. Again, Dom used his soothing gift.
“When did you last take the mate cooling medication?” Mason asked quietly, approaching Dominic.
“Obviously too long ago. Midnight.”
Mason glanced at his watch briefly, gave a nod, and then went to a cabinet and unlocked it using magic. It only took him a moment to prepare a syringe and give it to Dom.
“Thanks.”
“Not a problem. Healer Tamra, how is our patient?”
“Not healing by himself, sir. I am identifying Mr. Taunton’s natural vampire healing ability is failing due to the demise. Dr. Aston would not have seen this, and it would not have shown up in any of the tests, unfortunately. It is a new manifestation bought on by injury. And”—Healer Tamra raised a brow at Chane, who sighed and muttered something about everyone being impossible—“Mr. Taunton has not been feeding properly.”
“I will see to my vampire’s needs from now on. If you can heal him from the fall?” Dom pressed.
“Yes, I have healed the bump on the head and subsequent side effects of dizziness and blurred vision.”
“Thank you, Healer. Chane cannot scent me as mate. Is this due to the fall?”
The witch shook her head. “No, I feel the damage, but it is old. The problem was seen by a healer, but unfortunately could not be completely healed.”
“I see. Mason, I need to speak to Cecil and then quiz my mate on some pertinent facts over how he knows his attacker. Is there a vacant room I can use?”
The door flew open and two creatures entered. One was Baron Sanchez, Dominic’s cousin, an alpha through and through, very protective and take-charge, and an enforcer for the pride and Milson Valley. No one with brains, and most without, ever crossed Baron. Not without losing their heads.
The other creature was an Avenger. They were the deadliest of creatures, born with innate gifts, and they just screamed “Danger!” Avenger Vicus Aston was the Avenger for Milson Valley, and they all felt fortunate to have him, and his family, as part of their pride, as did the pack and covens.
“Avenger Vicus will scent your mate and scan Chane’s memories of the creature to track the attacker.” Baron smirked at Dominic’s growl. “Yeah, I know, cuz, we don’t like others in our mates’ minds, but this is important. We need to catch this bastard so he doesn’t attack anyone again, especially your mate.”
After a few minutes of inner debate, Dominic gave a sharp nod and moved to Chane’s side, the vampire glowering and seated stiffly on the bench. Avenger Vicus stepped forward and immediately captured Chane’s eyes and began using his memory-reading gift. Dom curled Chane’s right hand in his and stroked lightly, tamping down his possessive anger over someone else touching his mate’s mind, seeing him, knowing him. It was very hard for Dominic to tolerate, but he did, because that was what you did to keep one’s mate safe.
It took longer than Dominic expected. He was biting back a growl by the time Vicus stepped away. Then he noticed the deep frown on the gorgeous creature’s face beneath his leather hood.
Chane inspected his nails. “I be tire. Go coven now.”
“Come with me.” Vicus grabbed hold of Dominic and practically dragged him out of the room. Baron slipped out after them and closed the door. “Your mate knows exactly what is going on with the creature that attacked him, and technically, it wasn’t an attack. It was an attempted abduction.”
“Tell us,” Baron ordered.
Inclining his head, Vicus did. “Six years ago, Chane Taunton met an assassin, Carlo Sandstone, who had just moved to the same coven in Scandinavia. Chane was there visiting friends, and Carlo had just been stationed there assisting with security, but was really an assassin undercover. After a brief interlude, Chane was to return to his coven in Paris, but made a stopover in Amsterdam to visit with his brother. C
arlo did not take the brush off well. He hid it, but he became obsessive and nasty. He followed Chane to Amsterdam, and they, for lack of a better term, got back together. There was an accident a year later. Chane was hit by a car and suffered a few injuries that could not be fully corrected. His healing had begun to slow down. He took these as signs he was in demise.”
Vicus lowered the hood of his leather coat. “Over a year ago, your mate began to notice traits that were not becoming in his partner. In fact, they bypassed lines of right and wrong. He did a little research and found, over the time he was with Sandstone, there were a few of his old friends who had disappeared. To make a long story short, Sandstone was killing off anyone who got in the way of his relationship with Taunton. When Taunton confronted Sandstone, the assassin threatened Archer Taunton. Since then, Taunton has remained on the move, and I have to say, Dominic, your mate has no predisposition for violence and scheming. He has been so unsuccessful—and I mean in such a tragic way that I wouldn’t let your mate out without security watching his every fucking move. He may be able to fight, but won’t actually harm another, which is pointless in my opinion.” Vicus’s golden eyes narrowed. “Monks. I never understood them, but they hold a fascination and purity that is refreshing. Anyway, your mate thought to trap the assassin and has attempted this a few times, leading the creature around, and failed each time. Fortunately, he has also escaped these confrontations.”
“How does that work?” Baron scowled. “This Sandstone mustn’t be a very good assassin to let one ex-monk get away, especially more than once.”
“Taunton has excellent skills in some regards, plus, Mason is correct. The man knows plants, knows what to mix together. He may not be able to trap Sandstone, but he beats him by not being in isolated spots often and using the concoctions he makes. And, realistically, Sandstone is trying not to harm Chane, but from your mate’s memories, he looked out of patience today. He’s had enough. He’ll be hanging around and take out anyone who gets in the way.”