by Jane Jamison
Men of Passion, Colorado 1
Claws and Fangs
Kelly Sims wishes for love, but concentrates on her work as a freelance writer. Assigned to write about Passion, Colorado’s first art festival, she’s thinking it’ll be an easy assignment.
Damon Darrington and his brother, Jude, survived the Civil War, but they’re changed forever when a vampire and werewolf duo attack them. Losing control of their inner demons once was enough, and they’ve vowed to never put anyone’s safety at risk again. Years later, Riker Whitfield, the werewolf who changed Damon, finds him and asks his forgiveness. Since Riker was under the vampire’s spell, Damon forgives him, and the men forge a fast friendship.
When the trio meets Kelly, they know they’ve found the one woman they can all share. But a jealous female vampire is out to take Kelly’s place. They’ll fight with claws and fangs to save her, but will they reach her in time?
Note: There is no sexual relationship or touching for titillation between or among siblings.
Genre: Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Paranormal, Vampires/Werewolves
Length: 48,326 words
CLAWS AND FANGS
Men of Passion, Colorado 1
Jane Jamison
MENAGE EVERLASTING
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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CLAWS AND FANGS
Copyright © 2012 by Jane Jamison
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62241-405-5
First E-book Publication: September 2012
Cover design by Harris Channing
All art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
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CLAWS AND FANGS
Men of Passion, Colorado 1
JANE JAMISON
Copyright © 2012
Prologue
July 15, 1865
The countryside somewhere north of Atlanta
“I can’t go on much longer, brother.”
Damon Darrington clutched his brother’s arm, pulling him along with him. “One foot in front of the other, Jude. Don’t think farther ahead than that.”
God, how he ached. He’d give anything to sit down and let the darkness of the past swallow him. Even the unknown of the night would be better than the cruelty of the sun beating on their backs and burning their skin. But they couldn’t stop. They had to go home, back to their farms outside Atlanta where their mother waited for them. Or at least they hoped their mother still waited. They’d not had a single word from her for several months. Yet the promise of returning home was the only thing that had kept them alive during the war.
The questions that plagued him came back to tear at his insides. Was their mother still alive? What horrors had she faced during the war? And worse, how bad had it been when that Yankee bastard had marched his army through the streets of Atlanta, burning the beautiful city they loved so much? Had their friends survived the onslaught of the Yankees?
Damon pushed the thoughts of others away for now. After being released from service, he and Jude had headed south, determined to reach their home as soon as possible. Yet although the war was over, the hatred wasn’t gone. Along the way they’d had to fight both scavengers and Union soldiers, losing first one horse, then the next. They’d suffered enough wounds in battle, but they’d added more when they’d run into strangers that had only ill will on their minds.
“Do you think any of the pretty women we knew still wait for us?”
Damon smiled. “For us? Dear brother, I’ve no wish to burden you with bad news, but the ladies wait for me and only me.”
Jude’s chuckle gave him hope that his brother’s strength was not fading. “You’re wrong. No woman in her right mind would choose you over me.”
Damon kept his brother on his feet as he stumbled over a stone in the road. “I hope I have a chance to prove you wrong.”
They’d spent the year before the start of the war trying to win Miss Louise Callen’s affection and had finally gained a kiss when she’d found out that they’d enlisted to serve the South.
“We can hope so, brother. I pray that the awful touch of war has left our home and our friends untouched.”
Jude lifted his head, his brown eyes made to seem less rich from the dark circles under them. “I’ve dreamt of the day when we’d arrive home. It’s been far too long since we had news of our dear mother.”
Damon renewed his grip on his brother’s lean waist and ignored the pain as a stone found its way through the hole in his shoe. “Mother knows how to take care of herself. Instead of worrying about her, you should worry that her favorite son is coming back, and you, as before, will become second best under her loving gaze.”
“I’ve no doubt you will charm her into thinking so.”
Damon gritted his teeth against the groan working its way from the pain in his back up to his mouth. He couldn’t give in. If he did, Jude would die with him.
They kept trudging forward, each preoccupied with their thoughts of home and the terrible sights that might await th
em. They’d heard of Sherman’s march, but they’d had no word if Sherman had vanquished their home as well.
Damon put his head down, his arm aching as he kept his brother upright while making sure he kept one foot in front of the other. The sun would set soon over the horizon, and darkness would be on them. He’d have to find a safe place away from the road where they could rest for the night. If they were lucky, rain would fall to nourish not only their parched mouths but their blistered skin.
“Brother?”
Damon lifted his head and followed where Jude was looking. A woman not much younger than Miss Louise lay on the road. A crow sat on her stomach, its beady black eyes glittering in the falling light. The girl’s long black hair splayed outward around her head as though she’d spread it across her pillow to attract a lover. Her dress, torn and darkened with large areas of dried blood, hung on her thin body. Long legs were bent at grotesque, unnatural angles, and her palms faced the sun as though begging for rain.
“Stay here.” Damon lowered Jude to his knees then walked slowly toward her. He had no doubt she was dead but still found himself hoping he was wrong.
“Miss? Are you all right?”
He shooed the bird away and edged closer. Lifeless eyes stared at nothing. Her lips were parted, and blood had tracked a path from the corner of her mouth down the slope of her neck to drop and form a dark patch on the ground. Even though he’d seen many horrors during the war, he couldn’t stop the bile rising into his throat.
“Is she dead?”
He nodded, his mind racing. He couldn’t take her to the nearest town, but he didn’t want to leave her body outside to be further ravished by scavengers, human and animal alike.
“Are you home from the conflict, boys?”
Damon pivoted back toward his brother, almost falling from the quick movement. A tall, thin man stood a few feet from Jude. He was dressed all in black, but it wasn’t his attire that held Damon’s attention. The tips of fangs peeked over his lower lip. An air of authority and danger wafted off the stranger, and, more than he ever had during the war, Damon felt a surge of despair.
Jude twisted around and recoiled in fear. He fumbled for the dagger tucked into the waist of his clothes and pulled it out. “Stay away, demon.”
Demon? Is Jude delirious? Yet, what better way to describe a man with teeth like his?
“Who are you, and what do you know of this poor woman?” Damon’s nerves kicked into high gear as the stories he’d heard as a child came rushing back. All too often he’d hidden under the bedcovers, terrified by the tales of vampire demons and other creatures of the night. During the daylight and with the passage of age, he’d thought them only make-believe—until now.
He’s a demon, yes. A vampire demon.
The man brushed a speck of dust off his impeccable clothes and took a step closer to Jude. “Should I ask you that question? Or do I already know?”
“Are you responsible for her death or not?” Jude pushed to his feet and staggered a moment before finding his balance.
A wicked smile split the long, narrow face of the stranger. His hooked nose gave him a birdlike appearance, but it was his black eyes that sent chills down Damon’s spine. “Why, yes.” He wiped the corner of his mouth with one finger. “I believe I am.”
The anger and frustration that had built up inside Damon broke free without warning. Shouting the same terrifying cry that he’d yelled when he’d marched into battle, Damon prepared to fight. Yet even with Jude helping, he knew they were no match.
The man cackled and grabbed Jude by the back of his collar. Damon ran straight at him, moving on instinct alone. The second before Damon reached him, the vampire lifted Jude off his feet with no more effort than it took to lift a kitten. His mind didn’t have time to wonder at the feat before he was sent flying backward through the air with one wave of the stranger’s hand.
Damon landed on his back, the air bursting out of him. He found himself in a gully by the side of the road, staring up at the dimming light of the sky. Trying to regain his breath and his strength, he lay helpless in the dirt as his brother’s scream rent the air.
“Jude.” He tried to move and managed to roll over. Summoning all the power he had, he pushed onto his knees. Another scream sent him scrambling over the edge of the ditch and straight into terror of a different kind.
A huge wolf, even larger than the Saint Bernard dog his uncle had owned, laid its ears back and pulled its mouth into a snarl that exposed its long, sharp fangs. The wolf’s amber eyes glowed like the center of the sun as it growled, low and mean, daring Damon. He tried to run, to get to his brother, but the animal rose up and raked out with its paw.
Agony burned into his shoulder and traveled down his torso. The force of the wolf’s blow flipped Damon into the air to come crashing down, landing on his back. He struggled to breathe, fought to move, but the beast leapt on top of him, its saliva dripping onto his face.
His brother no longer screamed, searing grief into Damon. He closed his eyes as the wolf opened its jaws.
* * * *
If the moon hadn’t come out in full force, Jude doubted he would’ve found Damon. As it was, he’d gotten lucky when he’d stumbled over his brother’s limp body. He fell to his knees and clutched Damon’s torn shirt. Running his hands over him, he felt for the wounds he knew should be there yet found only smooth skin. Even the scar his brother had from the tip of a Yankee bayonet was gone.
“Damon, open your eyes. Don’t die on me.” He fought back a tear, knowing his brother would consider it a weakness unbecoming a Southern soldier.
Damon moaned, his eyelashes fluttering as he attempted to open his eyes. Blood covered most of his clothes and body, but the caked blood on his skin fell off at Jude’s touch. At last, Damon opened his eyes.
“My God, you’re alive!” Damon sat up and hugged Jude. “I heard you scream and I tried to get to you, but—” His eyes grew wide as his memory returned. “I must be delirious. How else could I ever explain what my eyes told me?”
Jude ran his gaze over his brother’s body again and, once more, found it incredible that he could find no wounds. Yet wasn’t it the same with his own body? After the stranger had grabbed his shirt then pulled him close, he’d seen the strange black eyes grow larger, changing from midnight black to blood red. He’d seen the man’s mouth open to expose fangs, and he’d heard himself scream as the man sank his fangs into his neck.
He touched his neck again where the vampire had bitten him. When he’d first come to, he’d felt two puncture wounds, yet now even those were gone. “If you’re hallucinating, then so am I. Brother, the man…” he struggled to find words that would describe what had happened to him without sounding insane. “The man wasn’t a man at all. He was a demon with fangs and terrible soulless eyes.”
Damon got to his feet and took Jude along with him. “I saw him, too. Just as you did.” He clutched his brother to him. “I think he was…a vampire.”
Jude bowed his head, wanting to confirm what his brother said, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. How could he when his own mind refused to believe what it had seen? “How do you feel? Where are your wounds?”
Damon slid his hands over his body. “I feel fine. But did you see it, brother? Did you see the large wolf?”
Jude gritted his teeth and wondered how much longer he could hold to his sanity. Or had he already lost it? “A wolf? Then it wasn’t the vampire who attacked you?”
“No. I was trying to come back to you when it jumped on me. But this was no mere wolf.” Damon’s mouth worked, yet it took a while before any words came out again. “It was much larger, stronger, with strange amber eyes. God save us, but I believe it was a werewolf.”
“Are we really talking about vampires and werewolves?” Again, Jude tried to keep the unbelievable from mixing with reality. But he could no longer deny what that reality was. “I fear for our minds, brother, but I know what I saw.”
“It’s true.” Damon gr
ipped his shoulder, his strength stronger than Jude thought possible. “I can barely say the words, but I have to. We were attacked by a vampire and werewolf.”
They grew quiet, each man lost in his thoughts, trying to come to terms with what had happened.
“We must never speak of this to anyone lest they think us mad. If I could wipe it from my mind, I would.” Jude scanned his gaze over his brother again.
“But we’re all right. We’re uninjured, yes?” Damon did the same, checking once again for the wounds that should have covered Jude’s body.
“I feel much better than I did before the werewolf attacked me, almost as though I’ve been renewed.” Jude clenched his hands and felt the sensation of power rushing through his body.
“It’s the same with me. My pain is gone, replaced with energy. I feel like I’ve been brought to life again.” Damon stretched out his arms as though testing his strength.
Jude looked up and down the road but saw no one. “Where’s the woman?”
“I don’t know, but we should find her.”
His brother was right. They needed to find her. Jude pointed for Damon to search one side of the road while he did the other side. After finding no body, Jude bent to touch the part of the road where her body had lain.
“Did you find any sign of her?” Damon stood over Jude.
Touching the large dark spot on the ground, Jude rubbed his fingers together and felt the sticky substance. He sniffed at his fingers, confirming his suspicion. “This is where she was. Her pool of blood is still here, but nothing else remains of her.”