by Talyn Scott
Astonished, Searlas didn’t know where to look first. “A prison,” he whispered in disgust, spotting silver dipped iron bars from floor to ceiling, each linked to one another with a thin cable containing living immortal fire. He stepped closer, careful to keep his body away from the stuff, and noticed lines of fire also running through the bars. “To keep immortals out,” he deduced in horror.
“Open it, please.”
Searlas knew what the prison held, understood it was a cage for around forty women, give or take the heartbeats he’d counted on the way down. But he still hadn’t been able to look past their feet, couldn’t face them since he couldn’t free them. It was cowardly, sure, but he’d never once claimed to be perfect.
“It’s impossible without finding the fire’s main source, could be something here in the warehouse,” he explained, “but more like a person.”
“Maxim,” said a voice from behind him, “is that person.”
Searlas fought not to draw his weapons and stake who he knew was his Master, the male now standing behind him. “Well, if it isn't the shadow on the wall.” After a bark of laughter, Searlas said, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do first, kiss your boots or kick your ass.” Spinning on his heel, Searlas eyed the platinum-haired commander who’d brought Jenny into the garden of the damned. The same dick who’d given him a new life. “She no longer owes you, I will pay my own debts.”
Syon lifted his shoulders in a casual shrug. “I care not who pays it so long as it’s paid.”
“That’s just it, you don’t care.” He lifted a finger, pointing at Syon’s face. “You dragged an inexperienced female into this mess. She was a damn waitress!”
“The only reason I’m not snapping your neck right now, my Undead,” Syon said as he stepped nose to nose with him, the commander’s power crashing over Searlas like the roar of a lion, “is that I’m trying to figure out how to save the females imprisoned right behind you.”
Searlas had momentarily forgotten himself due to Jenny’s honor. “You said Maxim could probably unlock them.”
Syon pointed to the corner, where a Gryph leaned crumpled and lifeless in the corner. One of his hands was amputated.
“Where’s his hand?”
Syon lifted it, giving Searlas a sarcastic wave. “I got tired of holding him up, so I cut off a reasonable body part to give it another go. I was trying the bar when you showed up.” Syon stepped forward and placed the hand on the thin cable, jumping back as a jolt of fire shot through his arm. He dropped Maxim’s hand, swearing.
“I guess that’s not going to work.”
Syon lifted his hand, scowling at the smoke rising from his charred flesh. He looked back, curling his lip at Maxim’s body. “Maybe I should cut out his heart.”
“There’s got to be another way around these bars and cables.”
“Nope.” Syon snorted. “Maxim also thickened the miasma before he was murdered. We’re stuck here. Otherwise, I would have aborted the mission and taken Jenny away the moment she told me that Niall Donn was after her.”
Searlas kept it calm and cool. The lie he’d fabricated was meant to find the double agent in Syon’s task force, where Niall would later connect with Oycher and Sage of the Vampyr Vojaks and see how far this piece of intel went. That way, they could sift through a smaller amount of agents to see who was the ultimate betrayer.
“All right,” Searlas said, “I guess you know where to find me.” Because Syon could come to him via their blood bond. “I must seek shelter before the sun rises.”
Syon nodded in understanding. “I have to hide Maxim.”
“No one knows about his murder?”
“I stumbled on him myself, so I don’t know who else saw his body, apart from the murderer. But if Cyna knows he’s dead, she’s sure playing it off in front of the attendees.” Syon looked at the women behind the bars. “I will imprison her within this immortal fire, though. As soon as I figure out how to release these females.”
“When do you think a guard will be down to check on them?” Searlas wondered if Syon had access to Maxim’s private communications, which would include security’s schedule.
“Not until the plane’s ready for lift off, and I don’t have any of my people on the ground to fight the guards.” Syon flung Maxim’s hand to the side, the dead flesh hitting the stone floor with a nauseating thud. “Considering the operative I’d planted to run between Jenny and myself has also been murdered, looks like it’s just me… and you.”
“I’m sure you have a failsafe in place,” Searlas bit out the words, recalling how Syon had used that term to refer to Jenny’s virginity, “in the event you might end up missing.”
Syon looked at the women again, openly troubled. “Yes, but even if they could get through the thickened miasma, my soldiers won’t arrive before these females are scheduled to leave.”
Searlas couldn’t trust Syon to retrieve the women. He needed to get to Niall quickly, explaining what he found here. “Like I said, you know how to find me. I’m going to beat the sun.” When he turned, he caught sight of a white-blonde-haired female, her eyes so arctic blue he had no doubt Norwegian werewolf blood ran through her veins.
“Do not leave us here.” She lifted a shaky hand to push her dirty hair from her face, her wrist chewed by vampires.
Searlas’ heart jerked. “How long?” he asked, and she knew exactly what he was talking about. The raven-haired vampiress standing next to her pointed a shaky finger at the wall, where tally mark after tally mark marred the stone. “Good God.” Searlas nearly gripped the bars to try and rip them free, but sanity returned at the last second. “I’ll get you out. I swear it.”
The Norwegian female was the only one who didn’t turn her back on Searlas in disappointment and disbelief. Her arctic eyes still twinkled with hope, though her tears had long dried. “Jeg tror du, Vampyr,” she whispered faintly.
Searlas had no idea what she said, but he took off, gliding in the way of vampires. He had to get to Jenny, had to allow Niall to put his body away somewhere safer after sunrise. Because he had a gnawing in his gut that had nothing to do with the imprisoned females, and it told him he was being watched.
Again.
Andreev’s mind reeling at his discovery, he remained in a mist and followed the Undead who bore the scent of Jen — the female he had offered handfasting — to a stone cottage nestled on the beachside. He swirled beneath the door and then hovered in the rafters.
There she slept, draped across the wings of a monster, one dark wing beneath her, and the other atop. The Gryph cocooning her the way he would a…Bride.
“Hell.”
Andreev stared at what would have been his future, a pureblood werewolf with eyes of the clearest cerulean. “I almost made the biggest mistake of my life,” he whispered, feeling like an idiot.
Setting self deprecating aside, he listened avidly as the Undead explained what was going on beneath the warehouse.
Every once in a while, the Gryph’s wings would twitch, as though he sensed another’s presence, which caused Jen to pet his feathers, mewling in her sleep like a well sated kitten.
When she lifted her head, opening those amazing, lust-filled eyes in search of her lovers, Andreev misted away.
He had no other choice, had to make a connection…
It was time to find Cyna.
Chapter 19
Jenny stirred from her sleep with Niall’s wings curled around her naked body. “So soft,” she murmured on a yawn, recalling what Niall looked like naked before she even open her eyes to the real life version. His rock hard shoulders, used for aiding his wings in flight, led to heavy arms molded into long sinew and nearly impenetrable muscles — a warrior’s body by anyone’s standards. And he was all hers. “I can’t believe I slept in the arms of a Gryph.”
“In the arms of your Gryph,” Niall corrected. Gently, he rolled her over to situate Jenny in the center of the bed.
“Hello, my female.” Searlas kissed
her. “Sun’s rising soon,” he said with a glint in his eyes. “You sore?”
“Never mind that! Where do you go during daylight?” she asked in horror. “Who will protect — ”
“Stop worrying.” Searlas trailed his fingertips over her hip. “Niall will watch over me.” A kiss pressed just beneath her jaw. “And you.”
“And then tonight’s the night,” Niall skated his palm over her left breast, rolling her nipple beneath the flat of his palm. “So get ready to fly.”
“You keep saying that.” Her lips found Searlas’ nipple rings, tugging until he hissed between clenched teeth. When she let go she asked, “Is that flying in the literal?”
He brought a wing over Jenny and Searlas. “Of course it’s in the literal. What are these good for, otherwise?”
“I know of another use.” Jenny wiggled her ass on the wing beneath her. “Your feathers tickle so damn good.” She trailed kisses down Niall’s chest as Searlas dotted kiss kisses across her shoulders. “I love the way they feel on my skin.”
Niall’s skin was not the typical velvety ruggedness of werewolves or even other vampires. It was otherworldly, delicious. She glided her mouth back and forth over his bronzed skin, sensing the same silkiness found on his wings. “Does your skin texture aid in flight?”
“Yes,” he said with a shudder, as Jenny skimmed fingertips around his ribs, then toyed where the wings grew from his back.
“I like making you tremble, makes me feel sort of powerful.” She kissed his mouth as Searlas brought his fangs to her throat, nibbling without breaking skin.
Niall smiled against her lips before he parted them with his tongue, searching inside, owning her mouth. Her right hand reached back and grabbed Searlas’ cock, the left roamed away from Niall’s wings and gripped his erection. Squeezing each of them, Jenny started fisting them at her leisure, getting a thrill when their hips lifted; when they groaned at the same time.
She pulled back from Niall’s kiss, turned her head, and took Searlas’ mouth with hers. A fang nicked her tongue, and he grew aggressive at the taste of her blood. Pushing her hand away to come over her body, Searlas lowered his great weight, allowing it to part her thighs, while Niall took another soul-claiming kiss.
“I know what you want.” She left Niall’s kiss and kissed Searlas again, then put her hands on his shoulders to push him from the cradle of her body. “But I want something first.”
“Anything.”
“To swim unfamiliar waters, I want to touch and taste, know you the way you know me. So on your back,” she demanded, pushing at Searlas again, “you too, Niall. Scoot close together.”
Both obeyed, their lips quirking at her obvious look of pleasure and satisfaction. But when she crawled over them to play, Searlas groaned and snatched her thighs, trying to press his mouth against her sex. “Stop that.” She smacked his chest.
“Ow!” Searlas mock pouted, releasing her. “You can’t put such a sweet-smelling pussy so close to my face and expect me to ignore it.” He rolled denim blue eyes. “That goes against the laws of nature.”
“And it’s just plain wrong,” Niall agreed, his slow grin as sexy as the rest of him.
“You’re both beautiful, you know?” For years, Jenny had witnessed females finding their mates, all beautiful males. Their strength and virility a draw for any female, and now she was looking at hers. Niall a Gryph and Searlas an Undead, she didn’t feel like she was missing anything not mating a werewolf. On the contrary, their union felt right, fated.
“Beautiful, huh?” Searlas’ grin matched Niall’s. “I like the way you look at us.”
Completely naked, she fought against the shame of her scars and kept her head up, right where it needed to be, and prowled down their bodies.
Jenny pressed kisses over Searlas’ chest, while skating a palm down Niall’s torso. She spread her knees, positioning herself amid their muscular legs. Then leaned back to stare at their hardened cocks. The longer she stared, the larger they grew. Niall’s even pulsated up and down for her.
“Nice trick.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lied so easily, so innocently that she narrowed her eyes.
“Oh, I bet you are the smoothest talker.”
“Was the smoothest talker,” Niall corrected. “Those days are behind me, Nevesta.”
“Yeah, well, I want to get behind her,” Searlas said, gripping his hardened cock until his head swelled to a purplish hue.
Jenny reached down and placed a chaste kiss on the tip of Searlas’ head. “That looks painful.” He hissed at her, twisting his dick in a ruthless grasp.
Leaning, Jenny grazed her cheek down Niall’s length, allowing the softness of her face to brush against his straining veins and ruthless ridges.
Niall gripped the sheets, twisting them as his hips left the bed. “Ah, Nevesta, your werewolf is putting her scent on me, marking her male.”
“This is my right,” she replied before allowing her nipple to brush Niall’s head as she started nuzzling beneath Searlas’ shaft. Searlas nearly came undone when her hot breath caressed his sensitive balls, the soft yet leathery flesh tightening for her. But he managed to rein in his release.
“Oh, you are unbelievably sweet,” he praised as she sucked a ball in her mouth. Then moved on to the next, rolling it over her tongue before biting gently.
She smiled up Searlas, his adoration fueling her lust. Then kissed Niall’s thighs, avoiding his dick altogether, until he fisted the back of her hair and brought her face to his thundering erection. She chuckled naughtily, allowing her fingers to slide from his balls to the very tip of his weeping head. After dabbling a fingertip in his slit, she brought the crystalline offering to her lips, smearing it over them as if she were applying lipgloss.
Niall stared down his body at her, possessiveness in his dark gaze. Then his eyes narrowed as Jenny’s tongue peeked from her lips and flicked his fluid, her eyes closely briefly as she savored him.
“You are salty and musky,” she described his flavor, “but mostly you taste like a moonless night.”
His hips rolled in an effort to get her mouth around his cock. “I am a creature of the night, not of the moon.” Shifting his weight, he gritted his teeth. “Though I’m in love with a creature of the moon.”
She paused a moment. “I will say those words to you soon, and to Searlas.”
“Yes.”
Twisting her thigh over Searlas’, she placed an open mouth kiss on the top of his balls, before moving her mouth up the underside of his length.
A hiss left his throat as he, too, clenched the sheets with his fists. Except his claws shot out and shredded the fabric. “Take a little more, please.”
“Hmmm.” Jenny brought her hand around his cock, fisting, though her fingers didn’t meet for his immense girth. She pulled down slightly and took his head into her mouth, her tongue dipping to gather his flavor.
Niall reached across and pushed Jenny’s hair off her face. “You’re gorgeous sucking cock, Nevesta.”
Her eyes fluttered as she moved her fist up and down… up and down… up and down. Then she braced herself, took a deep breath, and brought him to the back of her throat. This was basically halfway, but Searlas seemed quite pleased.
The three moaned, as they fed from one another’s need and pleasure.
“Jenny,” he said, twisting away, “enough.”
Obliging him, Jenny pulled away from Searlas and took Niall in nearly the same way, barely able to fit two ridges in her mouth. But as he looked down at her with his mouth open, his fangs draping his chin, and his eyes of solid black, she brought Niall to the back of her throat and watched his eyes opened in shock. Jenny wanted his love, yes, but she also wanted him to desire her touch.
Her eyes flashed cerulean as she groaned around his erection, working his ridges with a rhythmic sucking.
“Her mouth feels so damn good, doesn’t it Niall?”
“Yes, Sear,” Niall whispered hoars
ely. “Her instinct is driving her to milk me.” He curled his torso upward to look down at her. Bending his knee and leaning on one elbow, he cupped her throat with his free hand and gently eased her from him. In a ragged breath, Niall nearly pleaded, “Stop. I would spend inside you instead.”
Searlas gripped her with his biceps beneath her legs, his hands curving around the tops of her thighs, he leaned and kissed her hard. Hard enough that when he lifted they both were breathing unnaturally for immortals.
Slowly, Niall took another kiss while Searlas eased her legs apart with his hands and body. Searlas slid his erection purposefully against her moist sex, the sounds and scent reaching his senses in the most delicious way. He worked his way down her throat, nipping, nipping, and nipping.
“Sear,” Niall hissed.
Searlas shook himself. “I can’t feed from you until I can control myself better,” he said to Jenny, though her throat blatantly curved in invitation for his fangs.
“But I want it.” That wasn’t exactly what she meant. “I want to feel your bite, Searlas, the same as earlier.”
“Soon,” Niall intervened. “Right now, though, Sear can feed from me whenever he needs, and I will feed from you. That is, if you’re offering yourself to your vampire husband.”
At his look, his promise to bite, the tips of Jenny’s nipples pinched into spikes, begging for his mouth. He stopped to tease them briefly, watching her lips part as he took the sharp point of his right fang and stimulated a nipple.
When Searlas nipped beneath the opposite mound, flicking his tongue in the hollow between her breast and her chest, her breaths became choppy and a fresh wave of arousal scented the room.
“Like that?” Searlas asked.
Her males playing with her breasts? “Uh-huh.”
Niall moved down and did the same damn thing to her navel, taking the tip of his fang and circling, circling, and circling. He dipped inside and tugged with a slight bite. When she flinched, he chucked. “Feel it all the way to your womb?”