Firebird

by Jaycee Clark

  Cyzarine’s scent. Dark and promising.

  An image of them wrapped and tangled together flashed in his mind.

  It seemed to come alive, manifest itself.

  His cock grew, pressed against his black pants. He pulled her closer, looking only at her eyes.

  She moved against him, her thighs brushed his, then her groin, her hips, her trim waist, her breasts.

  A wave of liquid desire brushed and moved against him.

  She sucked in a breath, her amber eyes glowing gold at the edges.

  The music beat against the air. Something buzzed through his system.

  Her desire wrapped him in a tight fist and he shook his head again. But all he could think about was her, her body, sinking deep and hard into her. Her arousal wafted between them and he jerked her closer, insinuated one thigh between her boots, pressed and pulled until she straddled him.

  The music filled his head, thoughts of fucking her slammed into him, twisted the desire tighter and harder inside him until that was all that he could think of. All he could focus on.

  She raised her arms, and her breasts, pushing against the edge of the black corset, threatened to pop free. He leaned her back over his arm and bit down at the sight of her areoles, then her nipples, a pale dusky pink. Saker could no more stop himself than his next breath, even as some inner voice blared a warning in his head.

  He could feel her power, her lust brush against his.

  Her eyes were shut, but he didn’t care. He kissed the top slope of one pale breast, then moved to the other, quickly licking and laving the sensitive peaks.

  She grasped his skull, her fingers raking through his hair. “Saker,” she said, an edge of plea to it.

  He pressed his thigh higher, harder against her and could feel the heat from her core. She was already wet.

  He growled and jerked her up, chest to breast to him. Her mouth devoured him, her tongue feasting and dueling with his.

  “I want you,” she muttered between kisses, “I want you now.”

  Some sane part of his brain knew this wasn’t right, but he couldn’t stop. Couldn’t keep from raising her skirt.

  “Please…”

  “Just a minute, baby,” he told her, glancing to their right and the small stage. He turned them, grabbed her ass and set her on the edge of the dark stage. Blue lights rained down on them.

  He didn’t care.

  The music thrummed against his skull. And only one thought burst through.

  Take her.

  Take her.

  Take her.

  He grabbed the scrap of silk between her legs and ripped it away, shoving it into his pocket.

  Her eyes were golden pools of light, vague, yet as bright as topaz.

  “You’re mine,” he growled.

  In some part of her mind Reen knew this wasn’t…right. It was what she wanted, what she needed, what she had to have. But something didn’t seem right.

  All she could smell was him—dark forests, deep secrets. Images of them wrapped together, of Saker thrusting into her filled her mind.

  She couldn’t think beyond him, beyond her want of him.

  Her breasts were still caught above the edge of the corset, every rake of his clothed chest against her nipples made her gasp, made her want.

  Then he ripped her thong away and her body pulsed.

  She knew she couldn’t shift. Couldn’t let her power fully free. But the need to was almost overwhelming.

  It had never been like this before.

  Lights started to swirl around them, but she couldn’t think about that, couldn’t concentrate.

  “Now, Saker, for God’s sake. Now!”

  His cool fingers parted her, jerked a moan from her throat as they grazed over her pulsing flesh, wet and slick with her own needs. His fingers slid deep and she arched against him, even as his thumb pressed her sensitive peak.

  “More. I need more.”

  “And you’ll get it.”

  “Move! Move!” A voice yelled, but she didn’t care.

  She could feel him poised there, hot and hard, just there at the edge of her opening.

  “Reen! What the hell are you doing?” someone shouted.

  Reen grabbed Saker’s ass and arched against him, jerking him into her.

  She cried out and the air exploded around them. “Damn it! Stop!” the voice yelled again.

  But she couldn’t, simply couldn’t. Saker groaned above her and she could only stare at his eyes. The air around them glowed, shimmered and shifted, and muffled everything, the music, the yells, the people.

  All she saw was Saker, his black eyes glowing green, a muscle ticking in his clenched jaw. All she heard was his breath, faster and panting, his growls and groans, her own.

  Then he reached down and flicked his finger over her clit and she shattered, screaming out her release as Saker yelled his own and thrust again into her one final time. Sparks rained down on them and for a moment everything seemed to still, to calm, to comfort.

  “Fucking A!” the voice yelled, then Saker was jerked from her. Her brain couldn’t get around anything.

  The room seemed to spin around her.

  “What the fuck are you doing, you stupid son of a bitch.” Roars and curses filled the air, pressed in on her.

  Something’s very wrong…

  She couldn’t stop, couldn’t grasp…

  Someone lifted her from behind. “Come, my pretty, let’s get you out of here.”

  A prick bit the side of her neck and she moaned as fire burned beneath her skin.

  “No,” she mumbled.

  Reen felt herself lifted, tried to turn and see who it was, but didn’t have the energy, couldn’t…

  Stop…

  The world went black.

  Chapter Seven

  Erik slammed his fist against Saker’s jaw, snapping the other man’s head back. Saker’s eyes glowed green.

  “You sneaky bastard,” Erik snarled, his own power charging over him.

  Patrons had made a semicircle around them.

  Saker shook his head, and swiped out at Erik. “She’s mine!”

  “Not any more.” Rage roared through him. Erik had no idea what the hell had happened, but one minute he was weaving through the crowd, up on the catwalk. Then an energy, pure sex charged across the club, aroused the air and thrust against him.

  He’d looked over, across the converted warehouse to see a couple on the edge of the stage.

  Fury had lit inside him like only a few times before. Saker and Reen. The air glowed around them, as it only did with true mates. For long seconds, then moments, Erik couldn’t get to them.

  Saker and Reen.

  Reen…

  She’d been fucking a falcon on a stage before a club full of people.

  Warning screamed through him.

  But it had been as if a barrier kept them from everyone else.

  Until, finally, Erik, enraged, had gotten through then jerked the sonofabitch around. “How dare you.”

  “I dare because she’s mine,” Saker stated, his eyes still glowing, his power too close to the surface.

  Erik growled, felt the sharp edge of his fangs against his tongue and wanted to suck the bastard dry.

  He glanced to the stage.

  The empty stage.

  He froze.

  Saker slammed into his jaw, and Erik didn’t even try to fight the man off. Instead he tamped down on his own rage, to focus.

  He shoved Saker away. “She’s gone,” he rasped.

  The fury in the other man still hummed in the air, but Saker stopped, lowered his raised arm and turned to look.

  “No. No!” Saker let out a cry, high-pitched and shrill. The call of the falcons.

  Fuck. Erik said into the microphone hidden in his sleeve, “Flame is missing. Repeat Flame is missing. Report. Search the outer perimeter of the building.”

  Saker shoved people out of the way, and leapt back onto the stage, his own team members pulling out of
the crowd and surrounding him. One man, Gregori, Erik recognized. Gregori had left the royal palace with the young dethroned prince years ago and had remained loyal ever since.

  “Perimeter is clear, sir,” a voice said in his ear.

  Damn it. Damn it. Damn it!

  Saker whirled and across the expanse of the space, Erik knew that whatever their differences, they would work together to find the woman they both loved.

  He carried her through the underground passage. The club’s music beat through the floor, the pulse hard and pressing against his nerves. He knew he needed to get back or they might suspect him.

  Not that they would find him. And if they did, chances were they wouldn’t find his pretties.

  They’d looked before and no one had found them. Not when they were still alive, and not when he’d turned them into his.

  The tunnel, dripping wet from overhead pipes, the old bricks slick from years of mold and slime, turned sharply to his left. He glanced over his shoulder and smiled.

  He looked down into her face.

  Perfection…

  A firebird? He smiled and leaned down, sniffing, pulling her scent deep within his lungs.

  He’d have fun with this one. She was passionate. He now knew that.

  Kladovik frowned. The lights. He’d seen the lights shimmer and dance as this pretty mated with, not the one she arrived with, but with the bodyguard. He’d seen lights like that before.

  The Mating Glow, many called it.

  So who was her mystery man? Or had it simply been his little additives and incantation?

  Kladovik shrugged. It hardly mattered. Those looking for her would be all over the club.

  The darkness enveloped them as he quickly carried her. He slung her over his shoulder and climbed the ladder, shouldering the manhole lid out of the way. At the top, he scanned the deserted area.

  Empty.

  Three blocks away.

  He quickly climbed out and deposited her in the waiting limo he’d called. The driver was a lower demon trying to climb through his powers and ranks. Still had a lot to learn, but he was eager to prove his worth. There weren’t any better.

  Kladovik didn’t question the younger demon’s loyalty.

  “Take her to her new home. Put her in the third room.” He straightened, then secured her hands and as a last precaution, hung an amulet around her neck. He muttered a binding curse and pressed it to her chest.

  Her legs were long. He ran a hand down her torso and felt his dick harden. “It won’t be long now, pretty.” He nodded to the driver and slammed the door, slapping the roof of the car.

  With that, he closed his eyes and concentrated on his office. He hated transporting, especially when he had so much to do later and knew it would drain his energy.

  High screeches faintly traveled on the air. He frowned, wondering what they were.

  Transporting. His own phobia. It was like claustrophobia. For seconds it felt as if something or someone were pressing all the air from his lungs, pressing the world down on him, pressing.

  With a faint pop, he took a deep breath, and found himself inside his office. He quickly straightened his tie and picked up his cologne, and splashed some on his hands. One of the security monitors showed two males—her males—pass his own guards. He clicked the monitor to another channel, this one surveilling the dance floor, and quickly used his power to erase the clip where he’d taken his latest pretty. He held the bottle of cologne and waited. Just as his door burst open, he let it tip, dumping the overpowering scent all over him.

  He scrunched his nose and cursed. Then shook his hands off and picked up a towel from the nearby sink. “Gentlemen, may I help you?”

  They both stood glaring at him, the blond, his eyes as cold and hard as the rarest of emeralds, the other, dark-haired with violet eyes. Supernaturals.

  He merely wiped his hands off and then sat behind his desk, pulling out a cigar from his humidor. He waved to his guards who came limping into the doorway. “It’s all right, Vladimir.”

  The guard muttered something beneath his breath, but the two men ignored it.

  “Now, how can I help you?”

  “A woman is missing,” the violet-eyed vamp all but snarled. “As the owner of this club, we demand your cooperation.”

  Kladovik raised a brow. “A woman? Is there a specific one you’re referring to?” He swept his arm out. “I assure you, we can probably find you another.”

  The blond only raised his head and sniffed, his eyes glowing. Then his gaze fell to the bottle of cologne.

  Hell.

  “Where is she?” the blond asked.

  He looked at the men, then at the tip of his cigar. He clipped the end and lit the best Cuba had to offer. “Who is she?”

  Neither answered.

  Kladovik inhaled and blew the smoke out into the air. “I don’t appreciate people coming into my place and fighting, disrupting my dancers, causing problems.” He motioned with his cigar towards the blond and stood. “I do have to commend you on your performance. It’s not too often we get such an authentic…” he smirked and thought for a moment, then shrugged, “…blatant display of pleasure for the sake of entertainment.” He motioned to the sidebar. “Drinks, gentlemen?”

  The black-haired man flew across the room, his fangs extended, even as his hand wrapped around Kladovik’s neck. He took a deep breath, then leaned in and took another deep inhale. The violet eyes lit with rage and the hand around his neck tightened, the vamp’s fangs clear and threatening. Yet another first.

  They knew.

  “Where the hell is she?” the vamp asked in a low, icy voice.

  Deciding now was the time, Kladovik only smiled, blew out the stream of smoke into the vamp’s face and then, transported. The crushing sensation and reemergence wasn’t as smooth as he’d have liked. He literally popped into the limo.

  Sighing, he leaned back and looked at the woman draped in the seat next to him. He ran a hand over her short dark hair and then chuckled. Plans changed. He wouldn’t try to dissuade them of his involvement. He’d thought he could. Thought he’d cover her scent by his cologne. But they—the Hunters—had clearly smelled her on him, or the vamp had. Who was the other man? The mate? He shook off the worry. In hindsight he realized perhaps he should not have returned to his office. Then again, maybe it wouldn’t have mattered. This upped the challenge of eluding the authorities. Supernatural authorities were not as lenient as mortal ones. No, the punishment was swift and severe.

  A trickle of worry slithered through him, but he shrugged it off and studied her. The perfect angle of her wide cheek bones, the lush lips…

  This would be more fun.

  A little more danger.

  He laughed and ran his finger over the bridge of her nose. “We’re going to have fun, you and I.”

  Chapter Eight

  Saker paced the office. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to be out there looking. Searching.

  She was his.

  His head hurt like a son of a bitch. When he found the bastard behind this…and he would… “Otmudohat’,” he cursed.

  Erik nodded. “We will.”

  He stopped at the window. He had his best combing the city. He’d even sent an emissary to his father to let him know what had happened.

  And what the hell had happened?

  He couldn’t remember. Not really. He remembered dancing. He remembered her scent, dark and promising. Seduction.

  But there’d been no seduction.

  He’d fucked his mate on a stage in front of a room full of people.

  Erik simply stood against the wall. Other vamps and shifters were scouring the city looking for Reen.

  Cyzarine.

  An image of her wrapped around him, her breasts his for the taking, as he plunged into her, her cry filling his ears, burst into his mind.

  He had to find her.

  Had to…

  “I can’t believe I’m so stupid. So selfish,” the woman said
yet again.

  No one answered her. The leader of the Hunters was currently not acting like a leader but as one who had lost a loved one.

  “I love Reen as a daughter. Both my girls. What was I thinking, Erik? You tried to talk me out of it. You tried.”

  Erik shoved away from the wall. “What do you think Reen would have done if we hadn’t involved her?”

  She wiped her eyes yet again, her hair as blonde as Saker’s. Her eyes as blue as folded snow. “She’d have gone out on her own. That’s what I kept thinking. I knew, knew she wouldn’t stop. But I never thought. Never stopped to think that maybe, that she could be…”

  She raised watery eyes to Erik and shook her head. “I’m turning this all over to you, Erik. I can’t think. I can’t… I’m too close. I don’t want this job anymore. I have two sons. I can’t…”

  Saker cleared his throat. “We’re going to find Reen. We’ll find your daughter as well.”

  Those eyes swung back to him and whatever softness, vulnerability, he might have glimpsed in them was gone in a blink. They glittered.

  “What I want to know, Saker, is how the hell you managed to accomplish what you did.”

  He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t know.”

  She snorted. “I do. You wanted her, you had her and damn the consequences. Just like always.” She sat heavily in the large maroon leather chair. “So many mistakes. So much to fix. So little time. Why do I feel like we have so little time?”

  “I still want to know what the hell he was thinking,” Erik growled.

  “Jealous, blood sucker?” Saker taunted. He was spoiling to finish what they started.

  Erik stared at him, his anger to the point that his eyes still had the look to them they’d gained at the club. Those iridescent, violet eyes had yet to return to normal. His fangs still shone in the lights.

  “My only concern has ever and always been Reen and what is best for her. Unlike some, I put my own needs behind those.”

  Saker shrugged. “Well, if you hadn’t. She might be yours now.”

  Erik growled.

  Saker stood still waiting, just waiting.

  “Boys,” Navalovich admonished. “We don’t have time for this. Either Reen and Saker were honestly meant to be together and no amount of bond breaking or separation would keep them apart, or they won’t be and the…binding…” she said, frowning at Saker, “…won’t matter.”