Alphas for the Holidays

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Alphas for the Holidays Page 173

by Mandy M. Roth

No matter that he hadn’t wanted her, hadn’t answered her when she’d called to him years ago.

  Never mind that the bind between them had been broken by his own father.

  Now he was standing here. He’d worked with her, though from a distance, on another case a few months ago, which had led him to question his father.

  Alive. She was alive and all but vibrating with life, even as he knew she dealt death as quickly and efficiently as an adder.

  …you obviously didn’t leave an impression…

  A muscle ticked in his jaw and he was pissed at the fact he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

  Technically he had no claim on her. Hell, he’d been told she was dead. Had spent half his life blaming himself for a youth’s idiotic mistake.

  He looked at her over his shoulder. Long and lithe, dressed in black tight enough nothing was left to the imagination, she was breathtaking and he couldn’t help but admire her. She was beautiful. Her skin reminded him of moonlight for some reason. The line of her jaw was a bit more square than most women he knew, but the fate’s knew that tilt of stubborn chin only mirrored her hardheadedness. Sleek black hair hit just beneath that stubborn chin. Her lips were wide and full, and already he’d had too many thoughts of what he could do with her mouth. Straight nose. Her eyes—he remembered those eyes the most. They sat beneath dark, delicate brows that winged over wicked eyes framed by thick dark lashes. Tilted at the corners, like a cat’s, her eyes held a strange golden hue he remembered, that had haunted his dreams and nightmares for years.

  He remembered a child, a young girl who hadn’t liked him, a spoiled princess who could have cared less who he was. He remembered her scream of terror even as he’d lain with another woman. But he’d shrugged it off, just a moment, just for a second, instead of going to her.

  It had cost him the throne. Not only had his father answered her call, but he’d severed the bind and disinherited Saker.

  Fine.

  And she lived.

  He took another breath, watched as she ignored him yet again and walked to Erik. Erik, a death caller, a nightwalker, a living dead. A fucking vamp.

  Saker studied her even as she draped an arm around Erik’s neck and whispered in his ear, though Saker had no trouble hearing. “We’re going to be a couple? How fun. It’s been awhile since we got to play that role. Want a bite?”

  “Reen,” Erik tried, his eyes turning an iridescent purple.

  Saker knew Erik knew who he was, probably knew that they were—or had been—mated.

  Saker still wanted to rip his fucking heart out.

  He had no right to lay a claim on her, but he couldn’t help it. She was…

  So damn alive.

  Erik shook his head and reached for her arm, drawing it down. She merely smiled at him and kissed him on the mouth, traced Erik’s lips with her own, with her tongue. She reached, swiped at her still bleeding head and offered her bloody finger to Erik.

  Saker was across the room quicker than he realized.

  “What is your problem? Don’t like taking orders from women?” She stepped away from Erik, running her hand down over his chest as if straightening his shirt. The act seemed more intimate to Saker than the damn kiss.

  He cleared his throat. “Depends on the woman and orders.”

  She rolled her eyes and swayed, blinking. “Damn.”

  Erik reached for her, but Saker already had her arm. They both held her. “I think maybe you should sit down. How much blood did you—” He saw then the dried blood coating her collar, noted it on her pants and realized he hadn’t noticed before because of the color of her clothing.

  “You should be in the infirmary.”

  “So he said.” She motioned to Erik. “Hate the smell of blood,” she muttered and slumped.

  They both had hold of her and, for just a moment, she hung suspended between them.

  Erik, a muscle twitching in his jaw, pulled her towards him. Saker didn’t let her go.

  “She doesn’t know you,” Erik said, his voice gruff. “And if she did, she’d probably kill you.”

  Saker took a deep breath and hearing the truth, let go.

  Erik lifted her and laid her on the couch. “She hates the smell of blood. And do you know why, Saker?” he asked, brushing the dark black hair away from the side of her head to see the wound. “Do you?” His eyes still glowed.

  Saker didn’t care. “No. Strange to hate the smell of something she’s so good at.”

  Erik growled, and Saker saw the fangs peeking from his friend’s mouth. “She was supposed to have been a queen, you stupid fool.”

  “I know that. And she was supposed to have been mine.”

  Erik merely turned around and muttered under his breath. “She has no idea who you are. I can tell you this. She hates falcons. Thinks they’re useless. Doesn’t care for them. Or their kind. Your kind. Can’t imagine why she’d have that prejudice.”

  “I didn’t kill her parents,” Saker snarled, leaning over her.

  Erik slashed out with his hand and shoved him back. “No, but you sure as hell weren’t there for her either. If not for your father, she’d be dead. And where were you, I wonder? Little late to stake your claim now.”

  Though the man was right, he couldn’t give up. Couldn’t just hand her over now that he knew who she was. “I’ll go to Navalovich.”

  Erik shrugged. “Go, I don’t care. You think she’s going to take your side on this while her daughter’s life is at stake?” Erik cursed. “Bastard got her deep.” With that he picked her up and carried her out of the room. Saker started to follow them, but decided against it.

  He listened as they left, cursing and then made his own decision. He knew his father, knew the man had been angry, and damned if the king wouldn’t have known all these years that Cyzarine lived. Saker wasn’t surprised his father had broken their bond, and he even understood the why behind it. Hell, he’d have done the same thing if a son of his hadn’t lived up to his obligations. Now, however, he wondered if there was anything he could do to change it all.

  Without a doubt. One thing he knew. He wanted Reen and he had to have her.

  Chapter 4

  Erik watched her as Dr. Johnson checked her over. “This is deep. If she’d been mortal, it’d have killed her. A hair’s breadth deeper and he’d have split her skull.”

  Erik crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. He was tired of this job. But such was life, or his life. He knew Saker was still here, but at least he wasn’t in the room. Erik looked back at Reen and wondered what to do. He’d always respected Saker, at least what he’d heard of him. He knew Reen and Saker had previously worked on the same task force, though Saker was undercover, a few months ago.

  Erik assumed, from Reen’s reaction, she had no idea of the previous partnership. He knew for certain the woman had no clue who Saker really was. Once she did? He sighed and rubbed his face.

  There wasn’t a woman he respected more. He’d been in love with her since she first started her work for the Hunters. When they became lovers, he thought it might become more. But it took less than a month to realize that may never happen. Reen was the most guarded being he’d ever encountered, including himself. He knew her past, knew what happened to her. She was willing to share her body, even pieces of herself and her soul.

  But he knew it would be a miracle if she ever gave herself completely.

  So he’d do what he’d always done. He’d be here for her. It’s what he’d do regardless of how he felt for her. Saker might not like it, but Erik really didn’t give a damn. Saker hadn’t held her when she woke screaming from nightmares. Hadn’t calmed her when the past threatened to pull her under. Watched her when her job, the scent of blood, became too much and she shut down for days at a time.

  Saker could kiss Erik’s ass.

  Reen stirred. “Damn,” she whispered.

  “You’re staying here tonight.”

  “Like hell.” Her voice soft. “No time. Besi
des, I know Doc will give me some delicious meds that will have me back by tomorrow.”

  Erik walked to her bedside and leaned down until his nose was inches from hers. “That may be. But you’re staying tonight or I’ll tell Navalovich you’re in no shape for this job. You want to be part of it, you stay here.”

  Her golden gaze flashed at him, but he saw past the anger, saw the childhood fear. He brushed her hair away from the bandage and sighed. “I know you hate these places, Reen. Did I mention, I’m staying tonight?”

  She opened her mouth, but he leaned down and lightly kissed her. She didn’t shy away from him as she once did. “Don’t argue with me. You know in the end I’ll win.”

  Reen shook her head. “I can’t stay here, Erik. She’s out there. And he’s got her. I’ve got to do research, I’ve got to…”

  Erik had been distracting her, while Dr. Johnson prepared a syringe. He injected it into her before she could knock it away. The balding doc, a lycan, quickly stepped back. “Not too often I manage to sneak up on her.”

  “Ass. I’m not… I’m going to…” Her eyes slowly slid shut.

  Erik huffed out a breath and brushed the dark strands of hair off her pale forehead. Her blood wafted up to him and, like always, he fought the urge to lean in and taste.

  He kept brushing her hair back from her face, softly, listening to her breathe. She would be pissed, but if he didn’t sedate her to keep her here, she’d be out and straining against her limits. She was needed at top form and he’d make certain she stayed there, even if she didn’t like his methods.

  The doctor left them alone and Erik sighed, leaning close to press a kiss to her forehead. “Get some rest, sweetheart.”

  “I don’t like you kissing her.” The growling whisper came from the doorway.

  Erik didn’t need to turn around to know that Saker stood there. Saker, Rourik, whatever he went by these days. Rourik was heir to the Falcon throne. Saker was a mercenary, a bodyguard, one of the elite who did whatever necessary to get the job done he was hired to do.

  Erik pulled the white blanket up and tucked it around her. Motioning to the other man, they walked out. He didn’t miss the way Saker’s gaze began to glow when they rested for any length of time on Reen.

  They didn’t talk as they walked down the hallway, up the two flights of stairs back to Erik’s office.

  “I don’t want her part of this,” Saker said again.

  “It doesn’t matter what you want. These are troubled times, Saker, she’ll do what she’s ordered to do whether you like it or not. Regardless of whether I like it or not. And if you knew her at all, you’d know the easiest way to get on Cyzarine’s shit list is to tell her what she can and can’t do.” He poured them both a shot of vodka from the chilled bottle he kept in the fridge. “But go ahead and order her. It’ll be entertaining at the very least.” Handing one to the other man, he motioned for them to sit at the small table in front of the window. He sipped and stared out the frost-edged window. The air outside was far below freezing, not surprising as this time of year. The daylight just now beginning to come back. Probably another reason he was tired. With endless nights, he didn’t have to worry about limiting his sunlight exposure. “She’s not a frightened child anymore,” he said, still looking out at the frozen landscape.

  Saker said nothing and Erik finally glanced at him.

  “You had your chance to save her. You chose to lay with another woman instead. Even your father doesn’t think you deserve her.” He leaned up and stared the man down, letting his own power rise. “Your inactions almost cost her her life once, I won’t allow your sudden change of heart to compromise her again.”

  Saker took a deep breath and studied at a man he respected and might have considered a friend once upon a time. Instead he was angry. Angry that this vamp with the violet gaze had more of Cyzarine than he’d ever had.

  “What is she really to you?” Erik asked. “She’s not your mate. You can’t go before Navalovich with that as your reasoning. If the binding had never been broken, you might have a leg to stand on.” He shrugged and Saker wanted to wipe the smirk off his face. “As it is, you’d sound like a spoiled child that tossed his toy away only to decide later he wanted it back.”

  “She’s not a damn toy.”

  Erik swirled the clear liquid in his glass, grinned down into his drink before sipping it. “Indeed. I couldn’t agree more. If you follow orders in this mission, you might just learn something. Not only about her, but yourself.” He leaned close again. “I’ll warn you now. You start to cause problems and I’ll go directly to Navalovich and tell her we can’t work with you. We’ve got a limited time here, so shove your issues aside as the rest of us are doing and get the damn job done.”

  Saker took a sip of his own drink. “I always get the job done. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here.”

  Erik saluted him with the glass. “True. Use that same meter stick to measure Reen’s ability to get her job done. She’s the best.” He finished his drink and smiled. “Probably better than you. I’ll let you pursue her all you want. Away from the job. If she wants you, I’ll not do anything to stop it from happening.”

  Saker could only stare at the man, both pissed and relieved.

  “But,” Erik continued, his eyes again going violet, “you hurt her again, I’ll rip you to shreds then turn you into a vamp.” He smiled and flicked his tongue over his fangs.

  Saker took a deep breath to calm the anger and his own power surging up through him. He nodded. “You’ll step back?”

  Erik’s smile wasn’t amused. “If she really loved me, we wouldn’t be discussing this, would we?”

  Chapter 5

  The club—Dark Fantasies—raved. Music, from hidden speakers, beat through the melee. Bodies slithered and twirled together. The scent of sex and booze filled the air. This club, like Bindings, like the others they’d visited, all smelled the same, all felt the same.

  On the stage both men and women danced against poles, in cages, and chained to each other.

  Places like this made Reen twitchy. She didn’t want to be here. It was the darkness blanketing such places that made her uneasy. She liked the light. It was as if all the light, all the good, had been sucked out by evil.

  Not that she thought everybody gyrating, headbanging, or boozing in the joint was intent on causing misery and horror. Far from it. Most here were young, bored, and just wanted to have fun.

  Most were doing just that.

  This was the fourth club they’d been to in three days.

  “I wish we hadn’t come here,” Erik told her. His dark hair was slicked back and caught at his nape.

  She ran a hand down his partially unbuttoned, purple silk shirt. In her four-inch-heel platform boots, laced up to her thighs, she almost looked him in the eye. Her leather corset clung to her, her arms bare and her skirt, just shy of grazing the tops of her boots, was black and leather as well. She wore a collar, attached to a chain that Erik held.

  Behind him stood Saker. That man had done nothing but watch her since they started this three days ago. He hadn’t said a word to her, but instead, just studied her, making her skin…not crawl…hum. That was the only way to describe it. When he looked at her, his eyes just short of shifting, an electric charge hummed along her skin, slid underneath and swirled through her blood, called to her.

  The techno beat slowed, the music more of a chant. Erik leaned in and kissed her on the mouth, hard and fast. She felt Saker’s gaze boring into her, felt the soft hum charge until a current seemed to zing through her. After three days, the feelings no longer shocked her, yet she wasn’t exactly comfortable with them. It was as if something sharpened inside her so she was even more aware of him, caught herself watching him from beneath her lashes. The man popped into her head at odd moments. She pushed back from Erik and smiled up at him as she knew she was supposed to do. He ran a thumb over her collar and leaned close to whisper, “Sorry about the cover. But that’s these clubs for you.�
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  She leaned into him, wrapped her arms around his waist. “Don’t worry about it. You know I’ll do whatever I have to, to find Oleana.”

  Erik fisted his hand in her hair and pulled her head back, staring into her eyes. “That’s what I’m afraid of. No stupid stunts, Reen. I mean it.”

  “I don’t plan on pulling any stunts. I want to get her out of this alive.”

  Erik took the chain and led them to a table. There, he leaned down and whispered in her ear, “You know he loves the rare.”

  “And I’m as rare as they come. One of the last of a dying race,” she said, turning to look up at him. “Worried, darling?”

  He narrowed his gaze at her and jerked his head to Saker. “Watch her.”

  “Always.”

  Saker stood just to the side of her, dressed in a tight black shirt, and black pants. A jacket did the job of hiding his gun. She took a deep breath and could smell the dark, outdoors scent of him. Her blood settled into a low hum. Since they’d gone to two clubs like this last night and the night before that and another calmer, more tame club earlier, Erik had been acting as weird as Saker. Both watched over her as if at any moment she might disappear.

  She hoped she did. She wanted this bastard. After reading the file on him, she knew that even if caught, he wouldn’t give up what he would perceive as his greatest treasures. It wasn’t as if he sold the girls on the underground market. He didn’t deal.

  He collected.

  The men thought if they had him, they’d get him to talk.

  Reen knew otherwise.

  This man was accomplished, established, had perfected his art. So she’d draw him out.

  She let her power tingle through her skin and wave out over the crowd. Nothing huge, nothing more than if she were excited, angered, or hell—turned on.

  Which, around Saker, she seemed to be a lot the last three days. Something about him seemed familiar, called to her, aroused her.

  Saker put his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t.”

 

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