Sanibel Fire

by Talyn Scott

  Andreev regarded her for a long minute before his mouth thinned into a sardonic smile. “It doesn’t matter now, does it? What I was contemplating after receiving Maxim’s invitation has nothing to do with what I want now.”

  Whether he realized it or not, Andreev’s tentative proposal was more than disappointing, it was insulting. And if Jenny were truly looking for a vampire husband, she would choose another just for Andreev’s delivery. “Then I suppose I should be genuinely flattered.”

  “I guess I botched that.”

  “Rest assured,” Jenny said in understanding. “I won’t hold it against you.”

  A familiar throat cleared. Andreev and Jenny swiveled their heads to find Cyna standing next to Niall. The same glare of death directed at Jenny before she flashed a gentle smile Andreev’s way. “Good evening, Master Andreev, we are honored you found the time to attend our ball. Gryph Donn requests the next dance.”

  A flush of irritation reddened Andreev’s cheeks as he gave Niall a once-over. “The waltz is hardly over.”

  “As you can imagine,” Cyna explained patiently, “we have many vying for Jen’s attentions this evening. Already, we’ve encountered bids.” Cyna patted Niall on the forearm and the Gryph’s eyes widened at her brazenness, his wings tensing in offense until she stepped out of his personal space.

  For the first time, Jenny watched the Undead shrink back in fear. Well, this was horrifyingly interesting.

  “Then I must catch up with Maxim.” Andreev’s gaze slid dismissively past Cyna, searching the ballroom. “Where are you hiding him?”

  Cyna glared at Jenny, then in an uncharacteristically hoarse voice for an Undead, explained, “Master Maxim was called away on an urgent matter.”

  Surprised, Andreev replied, “Very urgent indeed, if he would leave his ball unattended.”

  “I am attending in the Master’s stead,” Cyna corrected.

  “Yet you have no rights without your Master’s presence.”

  Jenny’s spine stiffened, his words a sharp reminder of what Searlas’ life had become. Andreev was right, of course. No Undead had rights without his or her owner saying so.

  “My Master’s signature will be on any necessary documents, Master Andreev,” Cyna countered, drawing attention from the other attendees.

  Jenny needed to blend in more, not draw further attention, so she intervened for her own sake. Placing her hand on Andreev’s thick shoulder, Jenny asked, “Shall I expect you for another dance, then?”

  An instant later, Andreev softened, looking down at her with adoration Jenny couldn’t understand for they’d just met. “Expect more than that.” He kissed her palm again and left without saying his goodbyes to Cyna or Niall.

  With a flourish of her hand, her blood red nails coming too near for Jenny’s liking, Cyna formally introduced them. “Niall, this is Jen.” She spun on her heels, searching the room wildly as she took off for a side door.

  Niall bowed slightly. “Shall we dance?”

  Jenny arched an eyebrow, placing her hand in his as he led her into yet another waltz. “I would love to, thanks.” This time, Jenny didn’t care so much about her footing. And when she accidentally, stomped his toe, it was his turn to raise a raven-colored brow.

  “That was deliberate.”

  “You deserve no less than a few broken toes,” she said from behind a forced smile. “Back in my room, you should have never put your hands on me.”

  Niall pressed closer as they circled another couple. “I put more than my hands on you.” His mouth came down, hovering over her ear. “I put my mouth on you, Jenny. Hell, you tasted my blood.” Pressing closer, he let her know how much that turned him on. “But I would think whatever aggression I showed you, was to your werewolf’s liking.”

  “It wasn’t.” Maybe it was a little bit, but Niall didn’t need to know that.

  “Then let’s call it a tutoring session.” His hand clenched on her lower back, his eyes sliding down her body.

  “For what?”

  “You put yourself in a position I wouldn’t envy.” Another spin led them past a refreshment table, where several human women were gathered, all staring. “I never tolerate another touching me without my express permission, even beautiful women. Signing up to act as another’s subjugate gives the owner every right to touch you how and where he pleases.” His lip curled over his right fang. “That’s what you’ve done, bargaining your body to save your lover.”

  “I’m no ones subjugate!” she whispered fiercely.

  “Commander Syon would disagree.” His hand slid up her back, calloused fingertips of a fighter tracing the bumps of her spine beneath her wrap. “Shall we find him? I only saw him a moment ago.”

  “If your plan is to dangle me over my death until I can no longer take the stress of it, then try.” Jenny’s fingers tightened around his hand. “I won’t break.”

  “Whatever I plan is none of your concern.” His voice caressed her skin until her nipples pebbled, Niall murmured, “Only understand that I have a keen interest in taking you for myself.”

  “You’re really bidding on me?”

  “Your deal is set in blood, or didn’t you offer a crimson kiss to your pretend Master?”

  “You know why I’m here,” she argued heatedly, “so you know my wish for a husband is also pretend. This means whatever the price, I won’t go with you.” Jenny made her way to the refreshment table, reaching for a drink.

  “But you will.” He took the crystal cup from her trembling hand, filling it with punch and handing it back to her. “I won’t oblige you in this.”

  Taking a long sip, she stared over her cup, wondering what her next move would be, since Searlas obviously hadn’t handled Niall as he’d promised.

  She noticed some humans staring at her in fascination. Run, she wanted to scream; run away and forget this side of the world ever existed.

  Oddly enough, though, Jenny noticed the humans held a higher number of guards than any of the mixed bloods, or even Jenny. And she wondered at that.

  For females who offered themselves freely, they sure weren’t given free rein. Every woman she’d encountered, whether in the hallway or the ballroom, hadn’t been permitted to interact with Jenny or any other female in attendance.

  A horrible thought occurred to her when one of the pureblood humans glanced at Jenny with glazed eyes: The women may have applied with Maxim on their own free will, but possibly stayed due to vampiric compulsion. Syon may have wrong intel about the three allegedly taken from the Sanibel Island compound, but there was something underlying going on here concerning free will.

  Each of these women needed her freedom back now, and with the small army of Sentinels Jenny had seen so far, it would take a small army of Pack males and vampires to conquer Maxim’s stronghold.

  “It seems as though there’s a bidding war over you,” a woman said to Jenny, causing her to turn. Had she been in that deep of thought, not to notice Niall disappearing from her side? “What do you mean?”

  A Sentinel cupped the woman’s elbow, reprimanding her before scooting her away. Then, Searlas came to her, his warmth a much-need balm. She raised her half-filled cup of punch, speaking behind it. “You didn’t take care of Niall.”

  “A little faith,” he murmured.

  “Well,” Cyna said, striding toward Jenny while leading Niall and Andreev. “It seems we have a handfasting dual on our hands.” Everyone in attendance, apart from the Sentinels, clapped heartily.

  Jenny’s mouth dropped open. She’d heard of handfasting, an ancient Celtic tradition acting as a betrothal. But … “A handfasting dual?”

  Cyna lifted a signed parchment paper for all to see. “The highest bidders each want an entire night alone with you in order to affirm their investment decision.”

  Investment decision? Her hackles rose at the thought of spending the night with either the Gryph or the Master vampire. “What do I look like to you?” she blurted it out without thinking, throwing gasoline on t
he fires already burning in Cyna’s eyes. “I’m here as a potential Bride, not someone’s whore.”

  “I assure everyone here that we are honorable,” Cyna lifted her voice, now clenching the parchment in her fist. “The nights our fair Jen spends with each of our highest bidders will be chaperoned by her Sentinel.” She waved a hand in Searlas’ direction, but he stayed stoic, his gaze fixed on a far wall. “After all, Jen must stay pristine in order to bond with whomever finally wins her hand.”

  Cyna’s words didn’t stop the wave of nausea threatening to crash down on Jenny. “Thank you for clarifying.”

  “I am a Gryph of honor,” Niall said over her hand, lifting it to his mouth. “I take no issue with the presence of your Sentinel. And before daybreak, he will testify of my honor.”

  If Niall held honor, Jenny was a soccer mom. “I take it you’re going first?”

  Andreev appeared apologetic. “We can outbid one another all night, but rank makes right in tentative negotiations and a royal Gryph is over my societal station.”

  Niall laughed softly. “Sometimes, my birthright comes in handy.”

  His laugh should have made her want to run in the opposite direction, so why did Jenny long to strip off Niall’s tuxedo and lick every inch of his bronzed skin? To mark him with her nails again, but on his back next time, as Jenny pulled his great weight atop her, nestling it between her legs…

  “So the idea of courting me appeals,” Niall’s taunt sliced through her fantasy.

  Jenny blinked up at him, snapping out of it. “Not as much as it appeals to you.”

  Cyna hissed in Jenny’s ear. “I’ll personally help you gather your things.”

  “I’m leaving my room?”

  “Of course, dear,” Cyna explained, grabbing Jenny’s arm in an ironclad hold. “We’ve special accommodations for our esteemed guests.” She waved off Searlas when he made to follow. “Take Niall to our Master’s cottage on the beachside. We won’t be long.”

  With the fierce grip on Jenny’s arm, she knew what Cyna was up to. Yet there was only so much Jenny could fight back without entirely blowing her cover. After all, Jenny had made herself out to be a weakling for the illusion her enemy held every aspect of control. And even though Jenny was considerably weaker since her injuries, she could hold her own against an Undead, but she hoped it didn’t come to that.

  When they crossed a corridor reminiscent of a medieval castle, the endless floors compiled of gleaming flagstones, Cyna bit out instructions to a nearby housekeeper, ordering the woman to scamper up the stairs and retrieve Jenny an overnight case.

  And she’d like to say the first blow came out of nowhere, however, Jenny allowed Cyna to draw first blood. Bracing her hands against the floor, Jenny gathered her wrap and then the skirt of her ballgown before she stood. Staying prone was a no-no when engaging in hand-to-hand, and by the bloodlust on Cyna’s face, the Undead wasn’t nearly finished with her tantrum.

  “How dare you embarrass us!” she seethed, her foot kicking out and clipping Jenny’s ribs.

  The agony when her lowest rib snapped didn’t bring Jenny to her knees, but Cyna obviously punctured a kidney for the way it throbbed. “You’re forgetting I need to be whole to sell myself,” Jenny spat back, refusing to grimace, to acknowledge pain delivered by an Undead psychopath.

  Cyna licked Jenny’s blood from her nails. “So you’ll be a few minutes late, werewolf.”

  She spun out with a roundhouse kick, aiming for Jenny’s jaw, so Jenny grabbed Cyna’s ankle.

  And twisted.

  Until Cyna’s heel faced the front of her body. “I’m not your bitch, Undead.” Jenny shoved her backwards, curled a supporting hand behind her ribs, and walked out the front door.

  Chapter 16

  Jenny discarded her heels and quickly stepped down a flight of limestone stairs. Even in the open sky now above her, she still couldn’t locate a shift in the miasma surrounding what she could only discern as a small island centered by a Gothic-inspired manse. To her left, utilitarian warehouses stood adjacent to a small landing strip, so obviously Maxim utilized small planes as well as helicopters. She figured the warehouses were filled with air and ground transportation. Jenny couldn’t fathom the money it must take to run this place, so Maxim must be putting a significant price on her head alone.

  This meant she couldn’t get away with wandering out here by her lonesome. She turned a three-sixty and spotted Searlas staying back by about five yards. He lifted a finger and pointed to the beachside. Jenny nodded and turned right. Raising her skirt above sand and rock, she entered a walkway lined with wooden poles looped together by thin rope.

  An overwhelming sense of being outnumbered hit Jenny hard. She could feel the droves of new vampires landing on the island, their lust a palatable musk on her immortal tongue. And the loathsome sensation of being watched hadn’t left her for a single moment since she’d arrived.

  But the closest vampire, the other one watching her now besides Searlas, was as familiar as he was a stranger. And Jenny hated that she couldn’t smell him the way she could sense him. It set her werewolf on edge.

  “Niall,” she called his name, listening for the rustle of wings so she’d know where to face. But he stayed wherever he was hiding, which made her angrier. As a species of vampire, he knew her werewolf detested his hunting her.

  With her next step, her long skirt snagged on one of the wooden poles. Niall landed in front of her and clasped her elbows supportively, his wings spanning at least sixteen feet as they stretched out behind his great body.

  She pulled away from him, the Gryph towering over her. “I wasn’t going to fall.”

  His hand came to her face, lifting her chin. “You are damaged.”

  No longer did she feel pain from her ribs or kidney, they’d knitted as she walked. “Maybe, but you should see Cyna’s leg.” Jenny tried to find Niall’s scent, but failed. “Why do you care, anyway?”

  “Enough of this bickering.” Niall’s opposite hand came around, holding her tightly to his body as she struggled in his hold. His mouth came down, kissing the top of her head, her temples, her cheeks, and her nose. Anything he could get his mouth on, he kissed as he lifted her higher in his arms.

  And Jenny burned for more, her body searching for a relief only Niall could give. “I can’t do this anymore,” she sobbed, curling her fists against his wings, the silk so soft she longed to roll across them naked.

  “Stop crying, Jenny,” Niall said softly, “just stop.”

  “I don’t cry.”

  “Of course you don’t, not my tough Jenny Donn.”

  “Stop calling me that.”

  “Should I call you darling, my wife, or perhaps my darling wife?” he countered, lowering her to her feet.

  That voice! Keeping her eyes closed, Jenny opened her hands, reaching out again for Niall’s wings. “They’re gone.” She stepped back, hitting Searlas’ chest.

  “Stay calm, Jenny,” Searlas spoke evenly.

  Before her, Jed filled her vision. His black hair, onyx eyes… sexy as sin smile and no wings. “You’re no relation to Jed. You are Jed.” Her voice sounded strange to her ears, like she was in a tunnel, a tunnel going dark and grainy. She grabbed her temples, fighting not to faint.

  “I can glamour into human form, Jenny,” Niall explained. “Well, this human form.”

  “You let me believe you were a human,” she said, pushing away from Searlas and heading to a stone cabin set off from the tide. Niall kept his glamour, matching her pace, Searlas quietly moving behind them. “Then you let me believe you were a shapeshifter.” She swiped at her tears as her toes gripped the sand with each furious step. “Now you’re leading me to believe you’re a glamour-blessed Gryph.” She reached for the door, but Searlas beat her to it, opening it for Jenny and Niall. Jenny marched through the house, keeping her wrap secured around her back.

  “And you,” he said, tugging her to face him, “never told me you were a virgin.”

 
“Is that why you’ve been toying with me?” Because they’d forged a bond that could not be broken short of final death. “I’ve inadvertently cursed you for finding your true Bride, and now you hate me?”

  No regret shone in Niall’s eyes. “If you know anything about my kind, then you understand I fell in love instantly with you the moment I breached you.”

  She reached up at her heavy fall of hair, grabbing at the pins that had come undone. “You could have fooled me by the way you allowed those females to hang all over you at the ball.” She tossed them, listening as they rattled across the polished oak floor.

  “Jealous then?” His eyes dropped to her throat, zoning in on her racing pulse. “I’ll take it.” Niall’s tongue flicked out, wetting his lips. “At least it’s an emotion you feel for me.” He swept a hand through his hair, his possession and hunger visibly clawing at him. “Besides, does Andreev ring a bell?”

  “I’m working undercover for an investigation.”

  “I was, too, for years. But that’s been shot to hell, since I discovered my wife risked everything instead of allowing a grown male,” he said, gesturing to Searlas, “to pay his Blood Debt.”

  “He knows everything?” she asked Searlas.

  “Yes, I discussed co-mating with Niall, so all secrets and concerns came out in our conversation.”

  She paused, choosing her words carefully. “I understand that you’re in love with me now,” she said to Niall, and then looked at Searlas, “but neither of you will dictate what I do.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Niall moved towards her with unhurried steps. When not an inch separated their bodies, he lowered his head to her throat and licked Jenny intimately, right over her pulse point. “I will no longer allow you to flaunt your body in front of other males, until I’m so enraged with jealousy that I nearly blow my cover and yours.” His hands took her hips. “You dance with my enemies.” His touch sent lust curling throughout Jenny’s body. “Hell, you’ve even fed my enemies.”

  “Settle down, man,” Searlas demanded, his body pressing against her side.