Violet Abyss (A Blushing Death Novel Book 7)

by Suzanne M. Sabol

  As I watched him, a completely different wave of emotion flooded me. I was struck by the sheer domesticity of us. Without all the bullshit happening around us, we were just two people who loved each other.

  I couldn’t keep the smile from my face. “I love you,” I blurted without thought or hesitation.

  He peered at me, his obsidian gaze lighting with delight as the deep grooves disappeared from his forehead. A devilish grin turned up the corners of his mouth that sent shivers over my skin. “I love you too.”

  He held his hand out to me and I strode across the gargantuan master suite to him. Clutching my hand in his, Patrick spun me until I was perched on his lap. He slid his generous hand up my thigh and cradled me against him.

  The master suite door opened and Dean came in, stalking across the room to sit opposite us. “I’m meeting with the Pack Alpha in Pierre’s territory tomorrow. I’ll take Garrett,” he said, watching Patrick’s hands disappear beneath my robe.

  Patrick’s fingers played at the edge of my thigh and my breath hitched. I wanted him, no, needed him to close the distance and stroke my pussy.

  “Dahlia is going with Caroline to meet this Josephine. I will not be able to attend, as you can imagine,” Patrick said, sliding his fingers just a little higher.

  “You’ll take Ev, Brit, and Garrett’s two wolves,” Dean ordered in his Alpha voice but I was too preoccupied to really care. But I should care. Wait. This was important. I needed to pay attention.

  I smacked Patrick’s hand away and scowled at him. “Nice try,” I chastised. He shrugged his shoulders in good-natured defeat and lounged back in the chair. I did not, however, get off his lap. Turning to Dean, I asked, “Why are you meeting with what’s his name?”

  I know Dean had told me but there was only so much room in my brain for inane bullshit like names. I had real information to know, like where the carotid artery was. That was important.

  “To talk,” he answered. Smartass.

  “About?” I prodded.

  He folded his arms over his chest and glanced at Patrick before sighing. “About coming out.”

  My heart plummeted to the pit of my stomach with the same dread that twisted my insides into knots. I shot to my feet, pacing across the hardwood floors and wringing my hands together. I know I’d agreed to this. I had. I even understood the reasoning behind it but all I could think about was how Caroline watched Patrick as if at any moment he would attack her. How Jade still distrusted vampires, even after all these years.

  “Sweetheart?” Patrick almost whispered, concern making his pet name for me sound unsure.

  I stopped, turning to face both of them still wringing my hands. “Are we sure we want to do this?”

  “Baby? What’s the matter?” Dean gave me a confused side-eyed glance that didn’t help the growing unease.

  “I love you. I love both of you more than you probably understand,” I said, knowing they would never know how much they meant to me. I’d been without family and on my own for so long. Having them was like heaven. If I had a happy place, they were it. “I’m scared,” I whispered.

  “Of what?” Patrick asked, his dark eyes showing real concern at my admission. Just goes to show how often I said those words aloud.

  “People suck!” My blunt statement startled a chuckle out of Patrick and a reluctant grin from Dean. “No, seriously. People really fucking suck. I love you. I know who you are. People . . . People as a group are hateful and scared. I don’t want them to turn on you. I don’t want them chasing us in the streets.”

  “Pitchforks and torches, huh?” Dean’s grin bloomed into a full-fledged smile. It was a great smile too.

  “This isn’t funny!” I shouted and I swear I felt the entire house stop. Stop talking. Stop moving. Stop breathing. Every single person within hearing range, froze. It was an eerie feeling to know the entire house waited on baited breath to find out what Mom and Dads were doing.

  “Baby?” Dean said, getting to his feet and crossing the floor to me. Cupping my face in his hands, he forced me to meet his gaze. “It’ll be all right,” he whispered.

  “No!” I said, my voice shaking. “You don’t get it. You don’t see how they look at him,” I said, pointing at Patrick still sitting at the table, his elbows on his knees. He stared at me, open-mouthed surprise clear on his face. And suddenly I was crying. “What if I can’t protect you? What if I can’t stop them? You don’t understand.”

  Patrick rose, closing his mouth as he came to me. Drawing me into his arms, he said, “What don’t we understand?” His voice was soft and soothing as if I was a child throwing a tantrum. And, let’s face it, I was.

  “He’s a fluffy puppy, but you . . . you’re a monster that’ll sneak into their windows at night and steal their children. You’re dangerous and something to be feared.” My tone was hard and unforgiving. The vision of humans hunting him was too clear in my mind.

  “Some of us are monsters. We are dangerous and should be feared.” He paused for a moment, gazing deep into my tear-filled eyes. “I do not, however, remember the last time one of us stole a child. Most likely, the Middle Ages. We can lay their fears to rest on that point, at least.” He smiled down at me. A joke. He was making a joke about this and even with my sour mood, I smiled at him laughing off some of the tension.

  “I’m a fluffy puppy?” Dean asked, incredulous.

  “You know what I mean,” I said, embarrassed and ashamed.

  “We do,” Dean smiled.

  “There isn’t anything we can do about human perception of us,” Patrick added. “The best we can do is give them all the information we feel is relevant. There will be incidents and violence. We are sure of it.” He stroked my face. His delicate fingers trailed across my skin, leaving a hot line of desire pooling in my middle. Which pissed me off. I was having a moment here.

  “What do we do?” I asked, suddenly unsure. I was usually so direct. I picked a path and that was it. I was done. This . . . there were too many ways this could go wrong. Too many people I loved were at risk.

  “Put our best face forward and keep a tight rein on our people to mitigate any events that do arise. We’ll have to patrol and discipline our own. We won’t have the luxury of discretion,” Patrick said firmly.

  “That doesn’t help. I’m still scared to death that they’ll take you away from me,” I admitted.

  There was a time when I wouldn’t have ever let those words cross my lips. Now, in the presence of the two men I loved, I felt comfortable letting all of that crap out.

  “Hey,” Dean said, turning me in Patrick’s arms to face him. “We’ll face it together. The three of us. You don’t have to carry all this on your own.” Leaning down, he pressed his lips against mine and heat flooded my body. His enormous hands clutched my hips until the line between pleasure and pain blurred in my mind. Dean’s hot tongue slipped between my teeth, lapping against my tongue, tasting me. His scent filled my nose setting my senses into overdrive.

  Patrick’s hands slid over my shoulders and under the robe. Slowly, he slid the silky material from my body until it was a pool of fabric around my feet. A chill of air conditioning sent goosebumps pimpling across my skin. Patrick dropped his mouth to the back of my neck and kissed his way to the two marks on my throat that were his alone. Sinking his fangs into my flesh, he drew on my blood and drank me down. A groan escaped his lips as I grew wet with desire.

  Dean cupped my breasts in his roughened hands, circling my nipples until I was panting in his hands. Tugging my naked body against his, Dean pressed his rigid length, still tucked in his jeans, against my middle. Patrick withdrew his fangs and licked up the long line of my neck.

  “Jesus,” I sighed with one hand wrapped around Dean’s neck and the other behind me around Patrick’s. Dean’s hands slid across my ass and clutched me up against
him and I wrapped my legs around his waist. Kissing down my neck, he carried me to the bed. Patrick followed, bypassing us as he moved to the headboard. Laying me down, Dean drew my arms from around his neck and slid my wrists over my head until my arms were stretched tight and he had both wrists in one hand. Before I knew what was happening, leather cuffs were being wrapped around my wrists, holding me in place. Patrick jerked on the restraints, tightening the slack from the headboard. Craning my neck, I glanced up at him.

  “I told you earlier, I wasn’t finished with you,” he smiled, reminding me of his warning at Raine’s mansion. His gaze traveled down the length of my body until he met Dean’s hungry, bright blue gaze. “I want her wet . . . everywhere,” he said.

  “My pleasure,” Dean answered, dipping his head between my thighs. His tongue laved between the already wet folds of my pussy, licking and tasting me.

  “Christ-on-Crutches,” I hissed out as his fingers plunged inside of me. It was too good. His tongue was so intense and focused, I thought I might come apart.

  “So good,” he growled as he pushed my thighs up and apart, making sure I was completely open to his deep and attentive kiss. With one long lick and swirl of his tongue across my opening, he plunged lower. My legs quivered in his grasp as he licked across the tighter opening of my ass.

  “Fuck,” I hissed as his hand skimmed down my thigh and two fingers slid into my body while his tongue rimmed my opening. Behind me, Patrick’s zipper slid down, echoing in my ears. Before I could turn to watch his unveiling, Dean switched his fingers and his tongue. “Oh. My. God.” I couldn’t hold back as the orgasm broke over me. My entire body shook with the cataclysmic release.

  “Is she ready?” Patrick’s deep, lust filled voice asked.

  “Mmmm,” Dean groaned his answer.

  “Would you like to go first since you did all the work?”

  Dean raised his bright blue, Caribbean gaze first to me and then Patrick, nodding his answer.

  “Then, by all means, the choice is yours,” Patrick said inching forward until the tip of his dick was visible above my head. I licked my lips, wanting so much to have him in my mouth. Leaning in, he grinned down at me. “I’ll wait,” he said, taking his cock in his hand and stroking the long length of it.

  Dean spread me wide, dipping his fingers in my wetness and spreading it around until I could feel it dripping down the crack of my butt. Rubbing his cock against my center, Dean spread my slick heat over his hard length and then plunged deep into my ass.

  I couldn’t hold back. The sense of being full and tight around him was too much and I came again, screaming out his name.

  It went on like that, one after the other, taking turns until dawn. I finally passed out from pleasure and exhaustion after Dean and Patrick claimed every bit of my body as their own. At some point close to the sun cresting over the rooftops, I couldn’t take any more and fell asleep, smiling.

  Chapter 12

  Celeste followed Raine down the narrow stairs, the odor of moist earth and rich bayou moss-filled her nose. Her shoulders scraped the sides of the claustrophobic cavern and the deeper they went, the more nervous she became. She didn’t like tight spaces and this one seemed to get smaller with each step down.

  The stairs were slick, as if coated in slime from years of sludgy, swamp run-off. Thankfully, it took most of her concentration to keep her footing so she could block out the walls closing in on her. Raine, on the other hand, seemed to glide down the uneven, slippery stairs without pretext or hesitation.

  She wasn’t sure how much farther they would descend, but they had to be getting close. The faint reek of burnt ozone, magic, had her on the verge of sneezing. The crushing inky blackness gradually lightened as one step led into another. Before long, the light at the edges of the tunnel became a flickering dance of shadows as warm air from the flames below caressed her face. In a sickening mixture of smoke, magic, and Raine’s acidic French perfume, Celeste’s eyes watered from the stench.

  The stairs widened as the end came into sight. Light flickered and jumped as the torches burned brighter as Celeste approached the bottom. Raine strode out into the small room at the bottom of those long stairs, her heels clicking across a marble slab. As Celeste followed, she was struck by the solid earth walls. Roots and animal burrows were clearly visible in the rich dark ground. Magic had carved out this space with a uniformity and smoothness around the edges that not even a vampire hand could carve out. It was impressive and Celeste knew it had taken a great deal of power. Glancing about, she wasn’t sure she would be able to do this. Whoever had, was to be feared and worshiped.

  Torches lit the cavern in a soft orange glow, sparkling off the golden chalice resting on a pedestal of the same gleaming metal in the center of the small room. The chalice was illuminated from above but there was no identifying source. Celeste’s fingers itched with the latent magic hanging in the air and she balled her hands into fists to keep from making her own powers known.

  The Chalice glimmered and resonated with power before her. Etched in the shining gold surface was the figure of Isis, her wings spread out from her back as they wrapped around the cup. To Isis’s right and left, kings and queens knelt at her feet alongside peasants, scholars, and people of every ilk. Isis’s headdress glittered as the flickering torches glistened in the facets of the perfectly cut, blood-red ruby nestled in the center where the sun disk on a normal relief would be.

  “It’s beautiful, is it not?” Raine asked, her French accent thick with pleasure as she caught Celeste staring.

  “What is it?” she asked, knowing full well this was the prize she and Varick had sought for so long. As Celeste circled the pedestal, examining the cup, she walked the path of Isis’ wings as they circled around as if opening her power and protection to all she surveyed. As the idol’s wings came together on the backside of the chalice, an ankh sat nestled between the goddess’s feathers.

  She’d been studying Egyptian mythology since Varick had sent her on this mission and the sight of the chalice finally within her reach sent chills down her spine. The ankh, a symbol for the breath of life etched in a goblet as well as the goddess symbolizing nature and magic, could mean so much. The sun! She and Varick may be able to walk in the sun again. She managed to catch the gasp of excitement about to escape her lips and clasped her hands tight behind her back to keep from reaching out and making a dash for the surface.

  “Isis’s Golden Chalice. Cleopatra’s last great prize. Before her death, it is said she imbued this chalice with all her magic. The power of the Fertiri,” Raine answered in a whisper.

  “Do you believe it?” Celeste’s voice was little more than a whisper. Whether it held the power of that long-ago Fertiri, she couldn’t say, but there was power in it. Of that fact, Celeste was sure. The harsh sting of it seeped deep into her bones, making them ache from the sheer magnitude of magic emanating from the chalice.

  “I don’t know,” she sighed. “I do know that it is stronger now than it was the last time I entered this chamber. I know that only a woman may touch it. I’ve witnessed the power of this chalice and the horrible atrocities it has wrought on the males of our species. That is why it has been hidden away for more than a century. I don’t dare dangle this power out before those that it would destroy.”

  “Then why retrieve it now? Why, after all this time? Especially with Cavanaugh and his entourage in the city.”

  “Konyam desires to display his power over that . . . human,” she said with obvious disdain for Cavanaugh’s plaything.

  “What if the legends are true? What if she gets her hands on this? What could this mean for all of us?”

  “I do not know. It could be the end of all we know, or the beginning of something even more terrifying than Konyam’s reign. There is no way to discern what is to come.”

  “What do we do now?”

/>   “I am the only one who can break these wards set on this chalice and the cavern. I am the only one who can remove it from this place,” Raine said, her French accent growing thicker as her ire rose. “This is unwise,” she murmured in French even as she stepped forward, breaking the ward.

  The magic surrounding the chalice shattered, ricocheting through Celeste like an earthquake and she fought to keep her feet under the fierce pressure of the collapsing wards. Suddenly, she was bombarded with power, reaching into every crevice of her being. Whatever the ward had been, had kept the tidal wave of magic at bay. “So . . . much . . . power,” she managed to ground out as Raine reached for the cup with unsteady hands.

  “Once we reach the surface, it will lessen,” Raine answered, plucking the chalice up and into her waiting arms. “It wasn’t this strong before,” she whispered, cradling it like a child. She turned and headed back up the stairs with a quick light step. “Come, if we are attacked for this treasure, you are our only defense.”

  Celeste managed to make her feet move forward but the need to kneel, to collapse beneath the weight of the power that burned through every cell in her body was intense and more powerful than she’d ever experienced before. Her joints ground together as she fought to keep moving, to follow Raine up the confining stairs, making the pressure in her bones so much worse. Once Raine was out and on the surface, Celeste could breathe again. Her limbs shook with the release of the power’s pressure. Taking a deep, steadying breath, Celeste climbed the stairs. She took them one after the other, until fresh air prickled her nose and the scent of cypress trees, Spanish moss, and thick humid air filled her lungs.

  Raine waited patiently as Celeste crested the surface.