“You can’t do that,” Condor roared, jumping forward a step. “Those are my people, and they’ll do as I say.”
“I challenge you for the right of the coven,” Dale bellowed, turning to face Condor. “Face me.”
“What?” Clearly shocked, Condor gaped at Dale. “How could you?”
“You’re no longer putting the safety of our coven first,” Dale told him, his features dark with anger. His hazel eyes glimmered in the evening light. “You’re putting your own selfish desires to control and manipulate above our peoples’ safety. It’s time you step down.”
“Never!” Condor yelled. “Seize him.”
While Rizer and Whitney instantly moved to obey, Caine and Maude easily yanked them back and subdued them.
Dale lunged forward and swept out a leg. Condor went down. Glaring at the clearly shocked now-ex-coven master, Dale ordered, “I want you packed and in that limo with the council enforcers when they leave, Condor. You, Rizer, and Whitney are no longer welcome here.” Without removing his gaze from Condor, Dale raised his voice and called, “Can he go with you, Enforcers?”
“Of course,” Victor immediately replied. “They’re being charged with the murder of a number of demons.” The council enforcer chuckled coldly. “They would have been coming with us anyway.”
“And we’ll report the status changes to this coven,” Caspian stated, as if what had happened was the most normal thing in the world.
Condor curled his lip. “You won’t get away with this.”
Dale arched one brow and waved his hand to indicate those around him. “I’m being supported by council representatives, enforcers in the coven, and the Four fucking Horsemen of the Apocalypse.” He scoffed. “All because you couldn’t let one vampire and his favorite blood donor go. Did you invite that rogue into our area, too?” Then the blood drained from Dale’s face, and his eyes widened. “Holy fuck! You did! You tried to have Aiden killed because he would only sleep with Garrett.”
“You bastard,” Garrett screamed, lunging forward.
Pestilence’s deceptively strong arms wrapped around his waist and hauled him back. “Relax,” his horseman purred into his ear. “He’s not worth it. He’s done.”
Garrett groaned and shuddered, even as he nodded. He gripped Pestilence’s wrist while grabbing Aiden with his free arm. He hauled his human against him.
It took Garrett a few seconds to realize Aiden whispered, “It’s okay. I’m safe. You and Pestilence saved me.”
Finally, Garrett managed to take a deep enough breath to clear his head. He nodded. Then he pressed a kiss to Aiden’s temple. When he lifted his head, he couldn’t seem to find words.
“Well, damn,” War rumbled, grinning. “That was fun.” He patted Pestilence on the back, then winked at Garrett and Aiden. “Don’t be a stranger now.” Turning away, between one step and the next, War disappeared. Somehow, his words lingered in the air. “Toppling an asshole vampire leader without a war. Huh.”
Death chuckled and shook his head. “See you later, guys. I’ll bring my men by to meet you properly before too long.” Then, he was gone, too.
Garrett took in Famine’s cold, pleased smile as he watched a bunch of vampires drag a sullen Rizer, a screaming Condor, and a confused Whitney into the house.
He assumed it was to pack a few things.
Famine hummed as he turned his pale-blue-eyed gaze on Pestilence. “I see why you all have started paying more attention to the human realm.” Grinning, he glanced behind him at Dale. His look could only be called heated. “There are those here that are... interesting.”
A second later, Famine disappeared.
Blowing out a breath, Garrett realized they were the only ones left standing under the portico. He shook his head and focused on his men. “Time to take us home, Pestilence.”
“Home?” His horseman sounded uncertain.
Grinning, Garrett nodded. “Yep. Home, so I can fuck you both through the mattress.”
Aiden snickered. “Oh, yeah. Home.”
Pestilence growled and wrapped his arms around them both. “Home.”
In the next instant, they were the ones to disappear... and Garrett could hardly wait for them to reappear.
Home.
About the Author
Charlie started writing fantasy when she was eight, and after stumbling onto her first erotic romance at age nineteen, she realized her true calling. She now focuses on writing gay erotic romance, normally of the paranormal variety, with heroes of all kinds. With the help and support of her husband, Charlie finally fulfilled one of her life-long goals... move to acreage with her horses. You can often find her curled up with her laptop and a cup of tea or glass of wine, creating her next adventure. Charlie enjoys exploring the mountains of her new Oregon home on horseback, 4-wheeler, or motorcycle.
She can be reached at [email protected]
Or visit her at www.charlie-richards.com
The Hand of Pestilence Page 10