“I already have. Cancel my trip.”
“Are you sure? I could arrange a whilling for you in Manhattan as well—”
Shain grit his teeth against the pain. “Brooks. I’ve no use to make appearances at the event now.”
“But…”
“I attended them all before because I had a purpose. That purpose has been fulfilled. I can be more selective than ever.”
“Of course it’s not an obligation. By the onslaught of incoming messages alone, many are anticipating your presence, counting on your council… You predicted this would happen, after you achieved Tanaka’s alliance. You’ve prepared for this.”
Brooks’s not-so-subtle way of reminding him that, while he could pick and choose where and what he did—no longer beholden to his coven’s requirements—he still had an agenda.
But he could give it some slack. Because he was in control. “It’s only been a few weeks. By the gods, after chasing this alliance for half a century, I think I’m entitled to…” The bloodlust flared red hot, demanding, and he dropped his head back briefly. “Some space. Understood?” His irate, one-word question stemmed more from his need to feed. Shain didn’t expect him to understand.
“Understood,” Brooks replied with an apology in his tone.
By the time he arrived at his loft, he was ravenous. Starved. He marched to the elevator, punched in his code and floor number. Another man tried to come in with him last second and Shain snarled.
The man backed up with fear in his eyes.
Shain slammed the side of his fist on the wall.
Rauth, my god of blood, what in your name is happening to me?
When the elevator doors parted, he was like a tiger unleashed from his cage, striding to his door, smelling Sasha’s body lotion on the way.
Gods, he hadn’t been in this kind of condition since World War II. When he entered, by the look on her face, Sasha had never seen him like this either.
“Whoa. Did something happen?”
He heard her pulse and drew in some of her clean aura for the strength to calm down.
It worked about as expected: hardly at all.
Frustrated and desperate, his teeth throbbing, he went to his chair. Although she appeared more nervous than the first night they began their arrangement, Sasha moved to sit in front of him.
Relief was seconds away, but he feared…
No. Just feed, damn you.
He came down on her neck and she arched, turning her face away to give him the easiest access.
From the neck...didn’t feel right.
“Wrist,” he demanded hoarsely.
Sasha glanced back, worry in her eyes, before she composed herself and offered her wrist.
He took it, bit in, and drank.
Because her pulse beat harder than usual, she’d be weaker faster…and gods, might not be enough for the bloodlust raging within him.
She panted as he drank, making soft sounds, her other hand tightening to a fist in her lap.
The relief came at last, but—and perhaps because of his state—she didn’t taste the same. Pure, healthy, clean blood as always, yet it lacked…something.
Not that it didn’t taste fine. He sank in deeper for more, to observe further and found, instead of satisfaction, Sasha’s blood gave him only a fraction of what it did before. Drinking more didn’t help, didn’t supply the buzz that signaled to him his bloodlust was satiated.
Sasha’s head lolled back on his knee. “Shain…?”
Shit. Too much. Shain removed his bite, licked her wounds, and carefully released her arm from his grasp. He’d been sloppy because of his hunger. There was blood on the floor, down his chin and shirt, and now on her Lululemon pants. While she recovered, he lay his head back, staring up at the ceiling.
The cravings passed. As his tongue glided over his lips for the vestiges of blood, and he wiped the excess with the back of a hand, he realized…that was the most unsatisfying feeding in recent memory. Even though he’d taken more than usual.
Sasha’s blood was the best he could ever hope to feed him. For years, he thanked the gods he’d found the perfect whilling. Now, quite suddenly and without explanation, she tasted just okay. The sense he’d be hungry again soon poked at him, though he didn’t want to believe it. Refused to believe it.
Eventually, she stood up, and almost fainted.
Shain caught her, guilt blazing through his conscience. “You must stay until you’re well.”
“No, I’m—I’m fine.”
“I’ll call my driver.”
She seemed surprised by her own weakness. “It’s okay.”
“No. I insist. He’ll take you home, and I’ll have your car driven to you after. Where are your keys?”
Sasha gave them to him, and he notified his driver.
Something was off. He didn’t know what. But he was going to have to figure out a way to feed before he saw Kimber tonight.
He got a few hours of rest and despaired to find himself…hungry.
It wouldn’t be a problem to have another whilling sent to him, but he didn’t want anyone else in that community to find out. It’d stir questions. Inevitably, his request would get back to Sasha. While their arrangement was professional, they had a friendship of sorts, and it could cause offense. The only time he’d ever taken others was when he was abroad. This was different.
One whilling at a time should be enough.
It had been, all his post-maturation life.
He’d just waited until the eleventh hour. And it wasn’t like blood hunger was timed exactly. Maybe the stress about Tanaka and the drama with Kimber had depleted his vitality more than usual.
Yes, that made sense. Nothing to be concerned about.
Except that the hunger pangs had returned, and he did not want to be around Kimber with those.
Instead of calling the organization that arranged whillings and taekers, he reluctantly contacted the agency Tanaka had endorsed. While Shain had begged off replacing Sasha, his ally had recommended he upgrade to the kind only available to men of his status, and his wealth. Tanaka had joked the ultimate whilling was a shiya on the side, but in the instance “Savannah” wasn’t available, or had to end their agreement, he had access to the best of the best.
Shain hadn’t seen the benefit. Blood was blood.
But, he needed more, and Sasha wouldn’t be recovered for at least a week.
“Do you prefer a certain diet?” the woman with the sexy, husky voice asked.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, hating the questionnaire he had to go through. “No. I’m not very particular at the moment.”
“Hair color? Eye color?”
What did it matter when it came to blood? A blonde tasted the same as a redhead. “Any.”
“Age?”
The only age acceptable was over twenty-one. He dared not to ask if people actually requested younger than that. “Thirty-plus. No one younger.”
“Yes, sir.” Click-clack of nails on a keyboard. “Lineage?”
He paused. “You can request that?”
“Of course.”
His feeding teeth throbbed hard for a second, as if to remind him he was wasting time. “None of that is relevant to my needs. I just require someone tonight. Before eight o’clock.”
His curt tone didn’t seem to offend her. “Yes, sir. I’ll send out a request to all available whillings.”
“Wait. I have one preference. Males only. No females.”
“As you wish, Mr. Trevyn.”
Good. It felt less like betrayal to Sasha to have a male for this second feeding. And to Kimber.
Since when did he invest so much forethought into others’ feelings in order to feed? It wasn’t as if either of them would know about this. But he would. The gods knew he had enough secrets and guilt, so the less self-inflicted discomfort, the less for his conscience to battle.
Beep, beep. A text message came through while he waited.
Amara: I’m making my way b
ack to you soon, handsome. Let’s get together as soon as I’m in town. Much to discuss. I can’t wait to be alone together at last.
“‘Together at last?’” he read.
“Pardon, Mr. Trevyn?”
“Apologies. I was reading something.”
“Not a problem. Thank you for your patience. I’m still waiting for a response. Should be any moment now…”
Together at last? As if he’d demonstrated that she’d been passionately missed? Or that their previous affair would resume after it’d been months since they’d had sex? The last time he spoke to her other than texting was when he was in Québec. The foursome she’d arranged. The foursome he’d rejected. Her feelings hadn’t been hurt by that; Amara had never been mastered by feeble emotions over trivial things. She’d shrugged it off, likely assuming he’d been tired, overwhelmed, or overstimulated. If she had been hurt, she never held back from expressing her outrage. Seemed she was comfortable doing so.
He used to like those traits. Her venom, her sharpness. He viewed them as strengths.
Kimber showed him he’d been wrong about what traits to admire in a woman.
A vibrant yearning accompanied his bloodlust.
“Mr. Trevyn? Can you hear me?”
He snapped out of it. “Yes?”
“Oh, good. The connection wasn’t lost.” There was a smile and pride in her voice. “I think you’ll be very pleased with the whilling who has signaled his availability. His name is James. One of our most requested whillings since his contract ended with his previous taeker. He has an opening.” She typed some more. “I have to inform you, he’s very costly.”
Money was no object to any vampire calling this agency, and she would know that.
“Thank you,” he told her. “I look forward to meeting him.”
After he hung up, he paced, musing over how to respond to Amara without incurring her spite.
Truth was, avoiding her was unfair and disrespectful. It was wiser to have a mature conversation than to confuse Amara by evading her efforts or claiming a busy schedule. She’d respect directness. Neither had ever preferred deception. Not with each other.
He sent back: Please call me when you can. We need to talk.
No reply came after that, but he wasn’t surprised. She’d reach out to him upon her arrival.
He showered, and while he tied a towel around his waist, he saw a message waiting. From James, telling him he was on the way.
Perfect. Plenty of time to feed before meeting with Kimber.
Then he could concentrate on feeding another appetite altogether: his need for her.
Chapter Thirty-Two
To most households, a basement was an extra room for storage, laundry, or entertainment, but to Kimber, it was a channel between two worlds.
She had a system now. Sometime during the day, she’d bring her drawstring laundry bag to the basement along with a pair of shoes, and hide them. That prevented having to carry them with her down the treacherously steep steps. She’d dropped one the other night and Lucinda had stirred, coming down to check it out, causing her to have to wait another twenty minutes.
After everyone would go to bed, Kimber would sneak to the basement in her pajamas, in case someone was downstairs, like Beth had been last night for a glass of water. Kimber could claim the same thirst in sleepwear, but it’d be less convincing if she wore a blouse and a skirt. If successful, once in the basement, she’d change, put on her shoes, and leave through the outside door, which needed a liberal amount of WD40 to stop it from screeching like an alarm. Then she’d be free.
Tonight, she was able to leave the den, get to the basement and change with no issues. Shain was down the block, where he waited to take her to a new venue he wouldn’t give any details about, saying that she’d just have to experience it.
Once she closed the basement door, she sent him a quick text on her burner phone that she was on her way. He’d insisted they use cell phones to contact each other, and she’d readily agreed. To give her peace of mind, he’d purchased burners for the both of them. No more communicating through an oak tree.
Closing the paint-chipped door with care, she exhaled when it shut without a sound, and turned.
“My, my, what could you be up to, I wonder?”
Kimber froze.
Jackson must’ve suppressed his wolf to catch her unaware until the last second.
The alpha lounged in one of the plastic deckchairs, legs out, hands folded in his lap. He flicked the light switch for the single yellow bulb by the door. “Evening.”
She felt the blood drain from her face as she tried to come up with why he was there, how he knew about her nightly escapes, and what the hell he could want from her now. “What are you doing here?” she asked, amazed she sounded so calm.
With sinister humor in his eyes, he replied, “Obviously, I’m here to talk to you. Alone.”
Nya roused with a warning, spiking her instincts, and his wolf sensed it.
Down there, under the deck, two floors from the other shiyas, she and Jackson wouldn’t be heard. That was both a good and bad thing.
Jackson uncrossed his legs and straightened. “Now, now. No need to get your panties in a twist. Not here to hurt you. I’m here to talk business.” He gestured to another chair. “Have a seat.”
She didn’t have time for this. Shain was waiting for her. “Get the hell away from me.” She turned, only to be snatched by the arm and set roughly into the chair.
Nya barked viciously and Kimber’s nails sharpened for a second, then retreated.
Well. It was worth a shot.
Be calm, girl. We’ll be okay.
Jackson resumed his seat across from her and drew in a long breath, leaning back and setting his boots on a box crate. “No question you have somewhere to be, so I’ll get straight to it, darlin’. You’re going to transfer one hundred grand from your pack’s account to mine. Simple as that.”
Money? This ambush was about money? “The hell I will.”
“Hell is what you’ll get if you don’t.” He crossed his arms. “You see, I’ve had this place watched since you gals got here. Someone told me about a bundle of shiyas coming to town, and so I sent a couple of my men to look in on you. See what you’re up to. The initial reports they gave me were pretty boring…until they started seeing one of you sneaking out at night, not returning for hours. I’m a curious man. And once I’m curious, sweetheart…” A wicked smile spread his mouth. “Well, what can I say? I’m like a dog with a bone.”
A rumble in the distance from the coming storm seemed to punctuate his sentence with eerie timing. Kimber remained unmoving, quiet, recalling the alpha’s advice to never outwardly react when cornered.
Apprehension spread through her blood. He wouldn’t ask for such an outrageous sum unless he had something to incentivize her with.
“Anyway,” Jackson continued, “curiosity wins, so I make my visit, sweet-talk your sisters, getting a feel of what you’ve got and what you don’t, and then I meet you.” He chuckled. “Gotta admit, I wanted you for myself from the get-go. I mean, who could blame me? You’re a hot piece of shiya ass. You and I together? Would be like Barbie and Ken of the shifter world. Am I right?”
Was there anything worse than a man who was in love with his own face? Nausea threatened her stomach. “Get over yourself.”
“But you weren’t like the others. My charms just rolled right off of you. Honestly, I didn’t get it. I’m a fucking alpha, for Christ’s sake. It was buggin’ the shit out of me for weeks. It led me to set up that little show in the alley with the shadows. I even had a human on watch, armed to the teeth, in case they tried to play me.” He sneered, shaking a finger at her. “And then, well, we know what happened. Your vampire sweeps in like a knight from nowhere to ‘save’ us. Not only that, but he uncovers my ruse with just a squeeze on the shadow’s neck. Ha! Now that’s power.”
Was he blackmailing her to keep quiet? “If this is about that night, the shiyas neve
r believed—”
“I don’t care what anyone believes, Kimber-darlin’. Especially not your ignorant, country-ass cunt sisters with no brains. This is about what happened after I left. The human stopped me, told me to come up to the roof, where we witnessed the most fascinating scene: You looking at the vampire, him looking at you. How he—” Jackson gritted his teeth and made fists with his hands, pulling them toward his chest, “—pulled you in like a man who’d been sufferin’. Gotta say, I was fucking stunned. The human didn’t show it, but I knew he was just as shocked. I didn’t hear what you were whispering to each other, but I didn’t need to. A shiya in the loving arms of a vampire. Damn me.”
The lump that’d formed had to be swallowed. So they hadn’t been alone. “It wasn’t what you—”
“At first, I was going to have you fall in love with me. I thought, shit, this should be easy. She’ll take any excuse to leave that pack. I could see it in your eyes how unhappy you were, that day you said yes to a date. You and your wolf were fucking depressed. Up until I saw you with the vamp, I was aiming for you to be my woman, knowing once I got you in bed, it was a matter of time before I convinced you to leave them and take some money with you on the way out. Needless to say, once I saw you were already lost in love, the plan needed altering.”
So he thought he’d just get in between her legs and she’d not only fall in love with him, but betray her pack at his bidding? “You disgust me.”
The one-shoulder shrug said he couldn’t care less. “You’re going to wire that money or I’m going to tell everyone your dark secret.”
When despair and rage collided, it was hard to determine which one was more valid. “I can’t just wire you money and expect not to get caught. Do you know what they’d do to me?”
“I know what they’ll do to you if they find out about Trevyn. That was his name, right? He’d said it the Golden Tankard, and that fucking pussy shadow said it when his throat was about to snap.”
She maintained her poise and ignored the question, though she guessed he could smell the fear coming off her in waves. “They’d never believe you. I’ll deny it. We both will.”
His Dark Embrace Page 36