The Men of Otherworld: Collection One

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The Men of Otherworld: Collection One Page 5

by Yasmine Galenorn


  “Well, Dotti, I hope you find everything you’re looking for.” And then, he lifted her hair away from her neck and with one, smooth motion, slid his fangs into the flesh—deep and painfully. She cried out and stiffened as he coaxed the blood up, and then, he decided to give her a taste of the other side.

  Within seconds she was murmuring at his touch, moaning gently as he poured on the glamour. A moment later and she squirmed, reaching up to brush her fingers across her breasts. One more lick of the blood running down her neck and she came, harder than she’d ever come before. Roman knew the signs. As he pulled away, he thought with regret that she’d never feel it again—not unless she found herself another vampire. Even if she knelt at his feet and begged, she’d never be allowed in his stable. He didn’t like sycophants and he didn’t like liars or posers.

  He slowly withdrew, delicately tapping his face with a napkin. “Dotti?”

  She blinked, coming out of haze into which he’d thrust her. “Yes, Lord Roman?”

  “Gather your things and leave my house. I don’t ever want to see you again.” And with that, he turned, and strode out of the room, leaving her behind. The day had started rotten and was just getting worse.

  As Roman leaned toward his computer, glancing over the monthly summaries his secretary had provided, he paused, his thoughts drifting. Every tap at the door put him on alert. Damn it, why didn’t Caleb give him time to bug out of the country? He thought about doing just that, leaving now and pretending he’d missed the phone call this morning, but Blood Wyne would know, and when his mother got a bug up her butt, there was no stopping her.

  Finally, he sat back, buzzed his secretary and pushed aside all the business matters that were on his calendar. He had already made one call he hadn’t wanted to and promptly at seven-thirty, the door opened and Menolly and Nerissa walked in. Neither one looked thrilled to be there, and he couldn’t blame them.

  “I’m sorry I ruined your evening. I know you had plans.” Roman stood, bowing gracefully. A little courtesy went a long way. “I wouldn’t have called you if I had any choice in the matter but family…”

  Menolly snorted. “Dude, my family’s dysfunctional. Yours? Downright scary. They call, you jump.” She turned to Nerissa. “You understand, right? Be polite, regardless of the circumstances.”

  Nerissa nodded, staring at Roman. Her eyes were fixated on his, and he felt himself pull back. He would never tell anyone, but the person in this world that frightened him most, among the living, was this woman—Menolly’s wife. She, alone, saw him as a rival. And in his experience, rivals often ended up dead. But he’d made a promise to Menolly that he’d never hurt the werepuma, and he would keep that promise. Above all, Roman was a man of his word. Honor meant everything to him.

  Those lovely pink lips had been around his cock once, in an ill-fated threesome that he tried hard to forget. As smitten as he was with Menolly, he knew it was hopeless to try to win her away. Her heart belonged to Nerissa and he had finally accepted that. But one day the werepuma would age and die, and he and Menolly would still be alive. Then…then he would make his move. Until that day, they would play the game by the rules that the girls had set forth.

  “My brother will be here shortly. Caleb is the regent over in western Europe—France, Spain, Italy, and a few smaller countries. He insisted on meeting you. He said my mother told him about you.” Even the words ‘my brother’ left a bad taste in Roman’s mouth. He didn’t like any of his siblings—they were whiny and annoying, they pranced around like royalty instead of assuming an air of dignity. But Blood Wyne kept reminding him they were always that way, even before she’d turned them. But that wasn’t a good enough excuse.

  “As long as he doesn’t touch Nerissa.” Menolly brushed back Nerissa’s hair. She’d affixed a pink bow around the werepuma’s neck, tied in the front, which meant “hands off, I own her.”

  “Even those of the nobility, with the exception of my mother, are sworn to follow the rules.” Roman smoothly slid from behind his desk. He lifted Nerissa’s hand to his lips and gently kissed it. She smiled softly and inclined her head. And that made him more nervous than he had thought possible.

  A knock sounded on the door, eclipsing any other thoughts for Roman. His stomach tightened. Just because he was dead, didn’t mean he couldn’t feel queasy, and right now, he might as well be on a boat swaying on the high seas. He motioned for the women to sit near the desk, then took his place behind the behemoth of an oak antique. After straightening his smoking jacket and smoothing back his pony tail, he pressed the button announcing the servants were free to enter the room.

  The maid entered, her eyes wide. The scent of fear was clinging to her. Roman tended to hire mortal servants for maids, cooks, and other household staff. Behind her walked a hooded figure, at least six feet tall, wearing a blood red cloak, with gold trim. The cloak was rich velvet, fastened by a brooch that Roman recognized. He had one like it, as well as a cloak that was similar in fashion. The cloaks were handmade, only for their family. The tailor had been with the family since Roman could first remember. Blood Wyne had turned him, along with a handful of servants, when she had turned her children.

  Roman inclined his head, but he retained his stiff, formal pose. He refused to concede anything further to his brother. “Caleb, you grace my home with your presence.” What he wanted to say was get the fuck out, but that wasn’t the most diplomatic move. Caleb would run to his mother, and then Blood Wyne would yell at Roman, and it would be one big mess.

  Caleb pushed back his hood. He was striking, with long golden hair the color of summer sun, and sparkling eyes the color of frost. But though their coloring was different, the long, regal nose, and angular cheekbones belied their common parentage.

  Caleb glanced over at Menolly and Nerissa, his eyes flashing briefly. “Brother, it’s been a long time.” He wandered over to the girls, circling them. “It’s easy enough to tell who your consort is.”

  Menolly stood and curtseyed. Yes, it was expected of her and Roman knew that it grated against her nature, but she was brought up in courtly life and understood protocol. That was main reason he had decided to appoint her as his official consort—that along with his mother’s decree. Blood Wyne had insisted, and while he still didn’t know why, things had snowballed after that. Now, he was in love with Menolly and more than grateful for the way things had turned out.

  “Lord Caleb.” Menolly’s voice was smooth, but beneath the surface, Roman could hear a rumbling of discontent.

  Caleb gave her a long once-over, then turned to Nerissa. He held her gaze, but said nothing. Then, turning back to Roman, he said, “You are remiss. You offer me no one to drink?”

  Roman narrowed his eyes. Caleb was up to something. He could feel it. “I am a poor host, yes. I will have a bottle of blood warmed and brought to you.”

  “I prefer my blood straight from the throat. You wouldn’t refuse me, would you?” Caleb cleared his throat. “In fact, I’d rather you choose the woman personally. Someone you think would suit all my tastes.”

  Roman paused. Caleb’s meaning was clear. For some reason, he wanted to be alone with Menolly and Nerissa. That didn’t sit well. He doubted that his brother—as rough as he was—would go so far as to attack either woman, but the son of a bitch was up to something. If he capitulated, he’d leave them at risk. If he refused, he’d be branded in the court as churlish and his mother would intervene, and that could get dicey. Relative or not, she was the vampire queen, and she made her wishes known in her own time. But the one thing she was clear on: Her children would follow decorum with one another, and they would break that decorum at risk to themselves and their standing in her court.

  He vacillated for another moment, glancing at Menolly who shot him a confused look. Finally, Roman strode toward the door. “I’ll be back with your…beverage. I’m leaving the door open. It’s to stay open during my absence. This is my house, and you will honor my wishes.”

  Caleb shrugged
. “As you will.

  Roman motioned to the one bloodwhore he knew had proclivities for masochism—actually she was a switch. In all the time he’d known his brother, which was far too long, he had also known that Caleb preferred his prey able to handle a little rough treatment.

  “Listen,” he told Renee, “I will not require you to service him if you don’t want to. But you are the one among the stable who can handle his proclivities. If Caleb gets out of hand, Wendy has permission to step in and remove you. If he gets too rough, give her the signal and she’ll put a stop to it.” Wendy was a vampire, tough as they come, and she guarded his stable for him.

  Renee gave him a steely eyed nod. “Yes, Lord Roman. And…thank you, for watching out for me.”

  “I’ll do the best I can but remember, this is my brother. He’s one of the court. I cannot guarantee your safety but I’ll do my best.” Roman frowned. While he had lost a great deal of his humanity over the thousands of years, he cultivated what remained, and tried to keep enough humility to avoid sliding fully into predator-mode. Once a vampire began to view humans—mortals—as expendable, they lost their ability to think clearly and usually found themselves very dead, very quickly. Power without restraint led to carelessness, and power without reason triggered panic. And a group of panicked mortals were far more dangerous than the worst predator on the planet.

  “I understand.” Renee went to freshen up. Roman instructed Wendy to bring her to the office when she was ready and hurried back. He thought about calling his mother first, to find out if she knew what Caleb was up to, but if she didn’t, she’d just get irritated at him and tell him to deal with matters on his own.

  As he approached the door to his office—which was still open as per his instructions—Roman slowed. Vampires had excellent hearing. And sure enough, he heard Caleb talking.

  “My brother is softer-hearted than I am. I prefer the Old World, where they still fear vampires enough to give us the respect we deserve. This harebrained idea he and my mother have is a fool’s errand. And now you tell me you would prefer to remain here, at his side, as a consort than come with me and become a queen in your own right?”

  Menolly’s voice filtered out, the sultry tones vanishing from her cool, harsh reply. “Lord Caleb, your invitation is no doubt one most vampires would swoon over, but I passed swoon a long time ago. You’ve insulted my wife, you’ve insulted your brother—my consort. And you’ve insulted me, and then you invite me to switch sides and follow you to Europe? I have no clue how you can possibly think I’d be interested.” She snorted. “Truth is? I’m from Otherworld. You will find me far less tractable than women who are full-blooded human—even if they have been turned. I’m not good at being a puppet with a hand up my ass.”

  Caleb sputtered. “You fool. My brother has far too many enemies and far too little gumption to wipe them out. This Vampire Nexus he seeks to create—it will be strangled and not by me. No, I leave that to the humans who will never accept our kind—or your kind.” He must have been talking to Nerissa at that moment because she let out a harsh laugh.

  “You truly think you can go back to when vampires ruled the night and people believed they were invincible? There are a thousand wannabe Buffy the Vampire Slayers out there among the hate groups, and some of them are pretty damned smart. And just because my kind—Weres—are targeted too, doesn’t mean we’ll join you in the blood bath you crave.” Nerissa’s voice rang indignant. Roman had heard that edge before and while he admired her willingness to stand up for what she believed, he also knew that standing up to someone like his brother could be very, very dangerous.

  Roman snarled and swung into the room. “What the hell is going on?”

  Caleb jumped, his eyes turning bloodred. He was standing over Nerissa with Menolly between the two, her fangs down, looking ready to strike. Nerissa jumped to her feet, hands on hips, glaring from behind Menolly.

  Fuck, why the hell did I have to let him in the door? Roman had had enough.

  “Caleb, are you threatening my consort and her wife? You wouldn’t be trying to steal her away, would you?” Roman cautiously circled around them, but he couldn’t give away his power here. Vampires were like big cats—in a fight, the dominant one would win. Trouble was, Caleb had a penchant for grudges and his memory was long.

  Caleb let out a faint snarl but pulled back. Roman glanced at Menolly and Nerissa, a warning look in his eyes, and gently shook his head, hoping they’d keep their mouths shut. Menolly started to say something but Nerissa suddenly stood and interrupted her.

  “Our family is expecting us—we’re needed tonight and we gave our word we’d be home by nine. If we leave now, we can keep our promise.” Her voice was steady and she avoided looking at Caleb, who was smoldering.

  Roman gave them a brief nod. “Go then. I will not have you breaking your word.”

  As they gave both vampires a brief bow, Menolly paused, looking back directly at Roman. “You know I’ll never break my word.” They disappeared out the door.

  Roman waited for a moment, then turned to his brother. “What the hell was that all about? You were trying to convince my consort to leave me and go with you? And what was Nerissa talking about?”

  Caleb let out a snort. “You are so good, so obedient. You follow whatever Mother says without question. And now she has been swayed—she wants us to become part of the world, convince them to accept us. It will never happen. The world sees us as a plague. We’re the monsters in the dark, waiting to drink their blood and turn them into monsters just like us. You and Mother think all of these trappings will do the trick.” He gestured around him. “You think the businesses and the organizations will convince mortals to leave us in peace. You’re living a fool’s dream.”

  “And what are we to do otherwise? Mortals know we exist. We either do our best to work with them or…” Roman paused. A horrible thought crept in. “That’s what Nerissa was talking about—you intend to start a war, don’t you?”

  Caleb laughed. “A war? Oh, brother, the war started the day that Kesana, the Mother of Blood, invited the demons to transform her into the first vampire. The war started back then and it will never end. I need a queen worthy to take up the battle.”

  Roman forced himself to hold steady, but what he wanted to do was stumble back, to grab the nearest sharp object and stake his brother. “You are mad. You would go against Blood Wyne—”

  “Our mother has lost her edge. And you…what are you but a minor bureaucrat? What do you think will happen when the humans realize just how many of us there are? Do you really think they’re going to let us all live? Right now, they don’t realize our numbers, but you and your Nexus are intent on making us visible, and Mother has played into your hands. Menolly—I know what she’s capable of. Our mother made the mistake of telling me. She’d be the perfect queen for a new realm.” Caleb’s eyes narrowed. They were glowing crimson now, streaked with blood, streaked with anger.

  Roman knew what he should do—knew what he was obligated to do—but when it came down to it, he found himself vacillating. He’d killed countless men in battle before he’d been turned into a vampire. He’d killed countless people since then. He could be ruthless, but fratricide felt so final. He’d never attacked one of his own family before. As he considered his next move, a spark of fear crept into his thoughts. Caleb was strong. If Roman attacked him here, and didn’t win, Caleb would be free, set into Seattle without anyone to stop him.

  “Go. Get out of my sight. Get out of my city.” Roman whirled as a sound at the door startled both of them. There stood Wendy with Renee. “Wendy, get her out of here. Now.”

  Wendy obeyed immediately—she knew better than question her master. She grabbed Renee by the arm and dragged her away.

  Caleb laughed, waving them off. He headed toward the French doors leading out to the garden. “I’ll find my refreshment elsewhere. Don’t you have any worries about that. And brother,” he paused, clutching the knob, “tell Mother I resign my com
mission in her court, and I wish her good luck. One way or another, there will be a new queen rising, and I’m going to be right there at her side, controlling every action. The vampire nation will live again, in fury and vengeance, just like it was always meant to.”

  And then, Caleb vanished into the night. As Roman watched him go, he knew that a war was coming. If he had tried to stop Caleb now, alone, he doubted that he could have done it. But sometime, probably sooner than later, they would meet. And Roman would have an army behind him, because Caleb wouldn’t be coming alone. As he slowly moved to call his mother and tell her the news, he wearily thought that maybe he should just walk into the sun—be done with it and over. But that would leave Caleb free to storm against the mortals, and against Blood Wyne, and that was something Roman couldn’t let happen. As he picked up the phone, he thought, some nights seemed to last forever.

  A Purr-Fect Weekend

  All Shade wants is a weekend alone with Kitten…He should have thought about the old adage: Be careful of what you ask for. Sometimes you just may get it.

  Shade was looking forward to the weekend far more than he’d looked forward to anything for a long time. The family—including Maggie and Hanna—were packing up for a two-day vacation out at Smoky’s barrow, and he and Delilah would have the whole house to themselves.. Granted, they already had the entire third floor to themselves, but there was always somebody needing something—always some interruption. This weekend would be a wonderful cure to all of that.

  He hurried down to the kitchen to say goodbye. Even though he was looking forward to the privacy, no one could ever call him churlish. And he did love the rest of the family. He felt protective of them, just like Smoky did. All dragons, half-blood or not, had that streak. It bordered on possessiveness at times.

 

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