Violet Abyss (A Blushing Death Novel Book 7)

by Suzanne M. Sabol

  “Ev! Are you all right?” Brittany called from the yard below. I froze at the panic in her voice, forgetting the fingers playing, turning my body into a hot, wet, mess.

  “They will be fine,” Patrick growled close to my ear as he licked a path up the curve of my neck and pinched a taut nipple between his fingers.

  “Yep, let’s go again,” Ev called. “Give it more punch, Brit, I can take it.”

  “See. I require your full attention, not the pup,” Patrick hissed just before piercing my throat with his fangs.

  My knees buckled and I clung to him, sinking my fingers into the flesh of his ass behind me. One of his hands left my breast, skimming down across my stomach before delving between my jeans and my body. His fingers slid into my already-soaked folds and I fought to keep my feet. Each breath was a living-breathing thing as I tingled with each draw of his throat. He drank me down and slipped two fingers inside simultaneously. Pleasure erupted inside me, making my need more frantic.

  Pulling me back into the shadows of our bedroom, Patrick lifted me from the ground and carried me across the room. His fingers, still deep inside my warmth, slipped across my central pressure point and stroked me to a feverish pant. As he set me back on my feet, the front of my thighs pressed against the enormous four-poster canopy bed. I placed my palms on the hard mattress, steadying myself and trying to catch my breath as he stroked.

  The sharp rasp of his zipper filled my ear and I fumbled with my own jeans with unsteady fingers. His fangs withdrew from my throat and I groaned from the loss of his penetration.

  Shoving my jeans over my hips, I slid the harsh fabric down my thighs until the only slip of material between Patrick and I was the silk of my panties.

  “Your skin is so soft, so warm,” he rasped as he finally withdrew his fingers from my pussy and clutched the silken threads of my panties. The soft tear and sharp tug of fabric across my hips was quick but the slow glide of his cock as he entered me was exquisite. I arched my back, angling my hips up to meet him thrust for slow, excruciatingly blissful thrust. As he stroked, gripping my hips with strong, firm hands, I almost purred like a kitten.

  The soft click of the bedroom door opening and then closing briefly caught my attention but not enough to distract me from the man inside me.

  I used to be able to feel Dean’s power like a blast of heat as it scorched across my skin. Now, it was a smooth caress of power that rolled over me by the sheer force of his presence. Knowing that the other man I loved watched me, watched us. That he hadn’t stopped us. That I could smell his lust growing. All made the push of Patrick’s cock against my cervix all the more pleasurable.

  “Couldn’t wait?” Dean growled as he circled the room.

  “No,” Patrick snarled, his thrusts sharpening.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Dean as he circled the bed. He climbed up and propped himself up against the headboard until he was completely within my view. His gaze raked over me and my cheeks flushed with the intensity of the lust in his blazing Caribbean blue eyes. Again and again, Patrick slid into me as Dean unzipped his jeans and shuffled them over his hips, exposing his fully erect cock. I licked my lips, wanting nothing more than to slip him into my mouth.

  He took himself in hand, stroking up and down the long length of his hard shaft. Patrick, behind me, began to thrust in earnest. The ebb and flow of his rhythm began to build as the pressure inside me grew until I cried out, shattering around him.

  Dean stroked harder, faster, as Patrick increased his rhythm until the slap of flesh rang in my ears and I knew I was moments away from a second wave of bliss. Patrick grabbed my hand, stretching it behind my back until my wrist was flush with his mouth. He sank his teeth into my flesh and the instant wave of pleasure that rushed through me, sent me over the edge. My body clenched around him and he slammed into me once more before his body finally gave out and erupted with pleasure. He licked the inside of my wrist, closing the wound. He trailed a line of kisses down my spine and withdrew from my body.

  My legs shook and my chest heaved as I fought to catch my breath. Dean’s gaze lingered on my heaving chest and my plumped breasts against the low-cut, V-neck T-shirt I wore. His fist tightened around his thick erection and his breathing became more ragged. I lifted one knee up onto the mattress and then the other, crawling across the fluffy bedding, over Dean’s outstretched legs until my face was level with his. I leaned in and pressed my mouth against his, slipping my tongue between his warm, parted lips. He hesitated for a moment before deepening the kiss to a ravenous assault. Grabbing my naked hips, he slammed my pelvis down over him and filled me up again.

  “Oh God,” I cried as Dean slammed up into me again and again. My body molded to his, rocking back and forth as he thrust upward. “Please,” I begged, needing desperately to come again.

  Dean’s eyes blazed a bright blue of his wolf. I knew my eyes blazed silver in response to the mate bond sealed between us. Once, twice, Dean thrust, and I couldn’t hold back the orgasm as my skin flushed and I quivered, shook, and clenched around him. Dean followed and scorching hot, he poured into me. A fierce, threatening growl reverberated through him and I smiled down at him. Proud of the pleasure written across his stern features.

  I collapsed on the bed beside him and Patrick slid in next to me. A few months ago, this would never have happened. Both men would have been uncomfortable and done everything in their power to keep me to themselves and apart from the other. Since we’d sealed the Fertiri bond, the boundaries between the three of us had come crashing down. I felt more at home in their arms and between them than I’d ever felt before. I loved them so much. Sometimes, I thought it might break me apart. I couldn’t imagine my life without them and that was what drove me on.

  “As much as I appreciate the distraction, we need to talk about this.” I sighed, still feeling the endorphins coast through my system and unable to keep the grin from my face.

  “Do we?” Dean growled.

  “Yes.” I grabbed my T-shirt and slung it over my head, tossing it across the room. It was covered in sweat and sex. I couldn’t wear it downstairs in a house filled with shifters that would smell it a mile away. “You know it’s a trap, right?”

  “Yes,” Dean growled beside me, sliding his hand across the lace of my bra.

  My nipple puckered again under the warm caress of his hand.

  “And yet, the only way to curry favor with the other Territorial Lieges is to attend.” Patrick stretched out beside me, lithe and lean like a satisfied cat.

  “When was the last time a gathering of this type happened?” I asked Patrick, watching the muscles ripple beneath his alabaster skin, still marred by the scars caused by silver spikes when he’d been tortured in Faerie. I was getting used to them, almost not even seeing them anymore but when I did notice, a pang of guilt always twisted my stomach into knots. It wasn’t my fault, but I hadn’t saved him in time to stop it. For that, I would never forgive myself.

  “Never.”

  “Well, hell,” I snorted. “That can’t be good.”

  “You said it,” Dean added, his voice a deep rumble in his chest.

  “So, what’s our plan?” I asked, feeling the endorphins wearing off and the edge of anxiety making my blood pressure rise.

  “Stay alive,” Dean snorted.

  “We must demonstrate our power, our self-reliance, and resources to the Territorial Lieges. We must also show our superiority over the Lebensblut board. We must give the Territorial Lieges a reason to side with us or this entire endeavor will be fruitless. A rebellion of sorts is in order and this conclave is our best chance to gain support,” Patrick said, his voice harsh but firm. A sexy, gruff tone I recognized from that night in Crimson when he’d shoved me up against a wall, not knowing if he was going to kill me or kiss me. He’d kissed me and it had been one hell of a kiss.<
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  “What you’re saying is that I shouldn’t hide who and what I am . . .”

  “No, baby, no hiding this time,” Dean grumbled.

  “Correct. No hiding. We want them to fear us. We want each of them to weigh their options and find Konyam and the board lacking.” Patrick brushed a strand of my long, blond hair from my face. His cool fingers brushed across my forehead and I shivered in the humid New Orleans air.

  “Isidro will be there. We should have killed him when we had the chance,” I snapped. The board vampire had fled after their Necromancer had failed and I’d had to kill his progeny. I’d wanted to kill Isidro then but Patrick had been right. Killing the centuries old vampire in our territory would’ve brought the wrath of the Lebensblut board down on us. As much as I regretted Nova’s death, I’d had no choice after he’d betrayed us and fed information, no matter how innocently, to Isidro Grimaldi. I had too many people depending on me to leave a traitor alive. I’d also had to let the Lebensblut board and Isidro know that they couldn’t intimidate us and that I was not weak. Nova’s death accomplished all of this, no matter how much I regretted it.

  Too often, I was still considered human and not worth notice. I’d had to be meaner, more ruthless, and deadlier than anyone else since I began this journey so many years ago. Now, it was who and what I was. I’d become the monster I’d wanted them to believe me to be. I couldn’t say I was sad about that either. It saved the lives of the people I loved.

  “Yes, Isidro will indeed make an appearance or two. He wouldn’t miss an opportunity to demonstrate his superior intellect or remind us of our place. Especially after our last encounter with him.” Patrick angled his arms behind his head and propped himself up against the headboard. Without thought, I scanned the beautiful line of his body and my mouth watered with the remembered taste of his skin on my tongue. “All the Territorial Lieges and the Board will be there. They had no choice but to attend. Konyam threatened violence and destruction otherwise.”

  “So watch our backs,” I said.

  “Yep,” Dean replied.

  “Use bloodshed strategically. Never hesitate if you think it’s worth your while or will further our cause,” Patrick added

  “Message received. Blood is good.”

  “Nice, Pat. There’ll be blood in the streets if you encourage her,” Dean teased.

  “She hasn’t killed anything in months, not since Nova. I don’t want her to lose her touch.” Patrick smiled.

  I giggled, rolling over to kiss him on the cheek. When I’d first met him, Patrick didn’t make jokes. Our lives were too complicated, too dangerous, and too fraught with plots for jokes. He was finding his way back to a life with us, where he could relax and be the man he had been almost a century ago. The man before vampire politics and death had consumed him. I liked this new Patrick.

  Dean patted me on the ass, and I rolled back over. “Did you put the groceries away?”

  “Left Tag to do it,” he answered with a quick grin and a flash of blue in his gaze.

  “So, no.” I heaved and rolled over him, getting out of the bed.

  “I apologize that the staff did not gather enough sustenance. They are not used to having so many carnivores on the premises.”

  “Well I’m going to make sure the groceries are put away. You two come up with a plan. I think we’re going to need it.”

  ~ ~ ~

  I sauntered into the kitchen, a room that put our gourmet kitchen at home and most restaurants to shame. Custom, slate gray cabinets and quartz countertops that shimmered as if diamonds were embedded within the stone wrapped around the open kitchen. Two huge bay windows framed French doors and overlooked the pool and backyard. Patrick had built a luxury home in the middle of the Garden District but I never forgot that it was basically a fortress in the middle of the city.

  Garrett, the Alpha of the Three Rivers Pack in Pittsburgh, and Niyati were putting away mounds of groceries. The pile of bags was so high I almost didn’t see Miss Caroline at the stove on the other side of the island. She stood, her back to the room, stirring a gigantic pot of what smelled like gumbo.

  “Miss Caroline, that smells fantastic,” I almost groaned. My stomach rumbled and I was pretty sure by Garrett’s raised eyebrow he’d heard it too. And I was absolutely sure he noticed the scent of sex still clinging to my skin. I didn’t care. I’d lived too long around beings that could hear and smell everything. He would have to get over it. I had, years ago.

  “Don’t thank me. It’s the least I can do. You brought me back home and on a private jet no less,” Miss Caroline said, excitement making her Louisiana accent thicker. I smiled and peeked in the pot. Shrimp, chicken, sausage, and vegetables jumped in the boiling broth and the aroma of the spices she’d dumped in tickled my nose and made my mouth water in anticipation.

  “When will it be done?” I whispered, definitely wanting the first ladleful.

  “Give it twenty minutes to simmer,” she whispered back.

  “Our intentions weren’t all altruistic,” Niyati added, putting the three gallons of milk in the refrigerator. “We needed someone who knows the city.”

  I rolled my eyes at Niyati’s frankness. There was a way to say ‘we needed something from you’ without making it sound like we were using them. As beautiful as she was, Niyati was all brass tacks. No softness to her personality and without Alex, Patrick’s second in command, and Niyati’s lover, here to soften her werewolf moods, she was even more abrasive.

  “No matter. You brought me home child and for that you get gumbo.” Miss Caroline smiled.

  “Here, here!” Garrett chimed in, a smirk turning up the corner of his scruffy face. He was a handsome man if you liked the rugged, older type. With salt-and-pepper hair, he had the perpetual, grizzled three-day growth to match. Dressed in a pair of worn jeans with gaping holes at the knees and a threadbare T-shirt stretched tight across his solid chest, he shoved meat in the freezer. Maybe if I didn’t have Dean to compare him to, I would have once said Garrett was a big guy. I knew better now. Garrett didn’t take up as much space as Dean, physical or metaphysical. It wasn’t that Dean was so much bulkier than Garrett, it was that Dean was just so much more. More muscle. More presence. More alpha. I loved it.

  Striding to the French doors overlooking the backyard, I gazed out to watch Brittany and Ev. He hopped up off the ground again with a flourish and Brittany laughed. I caught the grin on Ev’s face even as he tried to hide it. I also noticed the twinge of pain that followed as he moved. I had to prepare Brittany for the fight to come. Brittany was young and undisciplined. She’d stood frozen in the face of the man who’d murdered her mother before her. She was slowly gaining control of her power but not fast enough.

  The part of the equation that sent chills up my spine was I couldn’t teach her. I knew so little of my own magic that there was no way I could teach her and I didn’t know anyone who could or would. The coven in Columbus had dispersed, fled like scared rabbits after Oz and Brit’s mother had been murdered by a necromancer. Brittany scared them. Hell, she scared me but I liked the kid. More importantly, Ev liked her and he needed something more in his life than following me around like my shadow. A light had gone out of his eyes after Vegas, and with Brit around, that light was starting to come back. So, at the moment, I just wanted her to be able to stay alive. I would take survival. That’s how I’d lived most of my life.

  “You worry too much. That girl’s seen real evil now. Until you’ve seen it first hand, you never really think it can touch you. She won’t stumble again.” Caroline’s warm supportive presence slid up beside me, her voice a soft reassurance beside me. I turned, my eyes wide and my mouth gaping in surprise.

  “She told you?” Niyati asked.

  “Of course she did,” Caroline almost snapped. “That girl watched her mama die and didn’t do a thing to stop
it. And you both know she could’ve. So does she. She needed a shoulder to cry on. I have two pretty strong ones,” Caroline chastised as if Niyati or I should’ve done the same.

  That wasn’t my forte and I sure as shit knew it wasn’t Niyati’s. I could teach her how to stab someone so blood didn’t spurt all over her but being someone’s emotional support . . . that was much more difficult and not something I was very good at.

  “I’m glad you were there for her,” I managed to say without making it sound like I was thankful it hadn’t been me. At that, Miss Caroline went back to her pot, stirring the gumbo and making the entire kitchen smell of spice and something inherently Creole. As Brittany and Ev continued to practice outside, Garrett came to stand next to me. He was quiet but observant. Several long moments of silence spread throughout the kitchen as Niyati put the vegetables away, Miss Caroline hummed over her pot, and Garrett and I watched the kids.

  “How powerful is she?”

  I’d been waiting for that question. Once Dean had said Kurt was staying behind as Pack Leader in Columbus and Garrett was coming instead as his Beta, I knew most of our secrets would come out. It was hard to hide in close proximity. Just because I’d been waiting for it, didn’t mean I was prepared for it. I wasn’t very good at lying or subterfuge and he would eventually figure it out anyway.

  “Her mother said that there wasn’t a coven in a thousand miles that could touch her.” I repeated verbatim from what her mother had told me. The woman’s voice was still clear in my mind, filled with resignation at not being able to protect her, fear of and for her daughter, and despair. Suddenly, I understood all of Brittany’s mother’s fears because they were now mine.