by Scott, Helen
I stayed bent in half, pretending to examine my knee even as I closed my eyes to revel in that scent. I could only imagine what it would be doing to Gideon. His senses were stronger than my half-human ones, but to me? It tasted like manna from the Maker.
Like the sweetest cookie dough baking in the oven.
Like the most sinful perfume ever made.
Like the reddest, richest wine in creation.
She scented like fire and sin, and fuck, I needed that.
Not for the piddling injury. She’d surprised me and gotten a good hit in—very few motherfuckers could get the drop on me, never mind dislocate my goddamn knee. But this little pureblood princess?
She’d done the unimaginable.
And that forged an inferno in my blood like no other had ever created.
Slowly, I tilted my head back to stare at her. “Do you know what you’re offering, little girl?”
Pain flashed in her stunning emerald eyes. It was swiftly followed up with an obstinate tilt to her chin. “Only what Raven offered me.”
And why Raven had done that was so beyond my understanding, I didn’t really have much of a comeback.
Too fast for the eye to see, my hand snapped out, even though I’d tried to curb my base needs, and as I gripped her arm, she jolted in surprise. They were always surprised by our speed, but walkers . . . shit. That’s what we did. We fucking moved. We hauled ass faster than even this pursang—this pure blood—realized.
I brought the weeping bite to my nose and took a deep sniff of the delicious silken liquid that was rarer than gold.
She scented pure, too.
It was there.
Filling all the overtones and undertones, just like that expensive wine I mentioned earlier.
Mine or Gideon’s, Keiran or Barclay or Raven’s, all had a metallic tang to it, which spoke of our heritage. Our dirty blood. But this one’s? No. It was beautiful.
And Maker, I wanted it.
I wanted to sink my fangs into her arm, take what she freely offered.
Why didn’t she know the risks of what she was doing? The girl was no fool, and yet, here she was, gifting someone of my stature something I wasn’t worthy of until I had my Sixth.
“Cade,” Gideon warned, his voice a rumble. The warning came twofold.
One, he was telling me to back off. Two, he was telling me that he was at the edge of his limits as well.
Fuck, I could understand that. I was so far past my limits, I might as well have mooned it.
“But she offered.” Hellfire, I could hear the pout in my voice, but that was how badly I wanted a taste of her.
“I did,” she whispered, and her voice sounded like the tinkle of a wind chime in summer. A gentle breeze over my senses.
I closed my eyes, wondering what it was about this female that made her so powerful she could catch us off guard. But then, I stopped questioning. I’d learned many times in my life not to question, just to accept.
I knew then, however, that I wanted her as our Sixth.
“Lily is weaker than you. Why does she overcome you in the obstacle trials?”
Marcella’s eyes flared wide in reaction—the question had come out of the blue to her, but I was thinking of future difficulties. I wanted her. No other bitch. Her. Yet Lily Addams kept besting her. I couldn’t stand that for much longer.
“Excuse me?” She tugged her arm free from my grip, and I let her, mostly because I needed the distance more than she did.
“You heard me,” I replied, my voice as much a rumble as Gideon’s had been.
I could sense him approaching, could sense his disapproval, but I didn’t care.
“I don’t let her win if that’s what you’re suggesting.” Her disdainful sniff didn’t fool me.
“Bull. Shit.” I snapped the words out, popping them, and enjoying how each syllable made her flinch.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, little girl, I do.”
“Stop calling me that,” she snarled.
“Why? You’re acting like a little girl. Letting that bitch win. Why do you do that?”
For a second, I wasn’t sure if she was going to answer, and then I’d never know, because Gideon murmured, “Do you realize how rare it is for someone to outrun us? For someone to be able to drop a move that could dislocate Cade’s knee?”
Her cheeks flushed, and considering she was a pureblood, that spoke of true discomfort. Things like flushing and sweating were hard-earned in a pursang’s body. In a salsang’s, not so much.
Their responses were different than ours. The mixture of species made us inherently different.
As much as a wolf was dissimilar from a dog.
Even though classifying myself as a dog really pissed me off, that was the truth of it.
“I-I should go.”
“No. You should answer me,” I retorted. “I want answers, Marcella.”
“Maybe I don’t have any to give you.”
She went to run off, but I grabbed her hand before she could. Tugging her forward, I dragged her into my body, not stopping until she collided with my chest. She made the tiniest and cutest—Maker help me. Cute?—oooof sound. It made me want to taste it from her lips as she peered up at me, worry and confusion warring in her eyes.
There was no fear, though, and that said a lot.
Most knew to fear us, but this one didn’t.
Because she’d been born to be our Sixth?
I wasn’t sure the Fates would be so kind to make it this obvious for us, but hellfire, the way she made me feel certainly was unusual.
We’d share everything with our Sixth. Thoughts, sparring, sex. Everything. It was the complete package. Like a human marriage with spouses, who also worked together.
We’d inhabit each other’s pockets, live and die in each other’s spheres.
There was no closer connection than a Sixth to her brotherhood.
And we were exactly that.
Her brotherhood.
We would only important because our Sixth would make it so.
While that had always grated on me, with Marcella, it didn’t so much. That said a fuck-ton.
“What are you doing, Cade?”
“Making sure you don’t run off, little thunderbolt,” I teased, watching her lips part. I longed to press mine to hers, but knew it would be foolish.
Then. . . .
Shit, when had I ever been wise?
I dipped my head, even though I heard Gideon’s growl of warning, and the minute our mouths collided, I suddenly understood.
Everything made sense.
At least to me.
It was like the universe coming together. A kind of personal Big Bang, which showed me what I’d always been searching for and why I’d always felt half-lost.
With her, I was found.
And the sensation was peculiar.
It was stupid, I was stupid, because it didn’t make me tender with her. Gentler. She was a virgin. I could scent it on her. Technically, all Sixths were supposed to be untouched, but that was an arcane and archaic law that was no longer important, but Marcella was. And I knew why. She’d been born to be ours. So the scent of her maidenhead flew straight to my head. It was like a drug, and it was only discernible now because she was aroused, which made her all the more intoxicating.
She wanted me.
I knew for a fact that most salsangs had issues with their Sixths at first. The prissy purebloods didn’t like getting down and dirty with us mixed heritage folk; they didn’t appreciate slumming it. But Marcella? Again, she was different.
I totally dug different.
Moaning, I supped from her like she was a glass of water, and I’d been in the desert for days. Sliding my tongue against hers, I tried to imagine it was different. That it was my cock in her pussy, that I was taking her maidenhead, and that this was so much more X-rated than it currently was.
Even if she wasn’t ready for that, I didn’t particula
rly care, and I knew that made me a total bastard, but then, that was me. That was who I’d been raised to be.
I shuddered as she pressed her hands to my pecs. Not to push me away, but for the little minx to dig her nails into the muscles. I felt the sting and loved it. Wanted more. Wanted those nails dragging down my back, tearing into my skin, leaving marks behind.
Hellfire, scars.
I wanted them on me.
I wanted to be covered by her bites and marks more than I’d even wanted to join a brotherhood.
And it was that thought that had me jolting back to earth.
The only thing I’d ever worked for in my life was to be in the brotherhood. It had been my one goal throughout all my miserable years at Eastbrook. This woman, this princess, couldn’t just waltz into my life and change all that.
I pulled away from her with an abruptness that left her gasping and staring up at me like I was the moon to her stars.
“Why?” I demanded, my voice husky.
Confusion puckered her brow, then she stiffened and a woodenness overcame her features. “Lily is of the LeFauvre line.”
“Isn’t her surname is Addams?” Gideon questioned, stepping closer to us. In the light of the moon, I could see he had a hard on. And who could fucking blame him?
I was sporting wood, too.
There was no avoiding the fact that Marcella had to feel it as well. The thick ridge of my shaft was lodged against her stomach, a wedge between us.
“Her mother is a LeFauvre,” she explained, her voice soft. Defeated.
I didn’t like that. In fact, I fucking loathed it.
This woman, my woman, Maker help me, should never sound defeated.
“What of it?” I rasped.
“You never mess with the LeFauvres. Haven’t you learned that yet? And there are two here.” She huffed out a scornful laugh. “It’s a wonder they haven’t staked me in my sleep.”
I stiffened. “What the fuck do you mean?”
“I mean,” she snapped, a fire raging in her eyes, “Master Lee. He’s a LeFauvre, too.”
Gideon shook his head. “Wait a minute, the LeFauvres are council, aren’t they?”
“Exactly. But Julian Addams is her brother.”
“The Enforcer?” I growled.
“Yes,” she replied.
I frowned at Gideon. “Why didn’t we know that?”
“Darius apparently didn’t see fit to tell us,” my brother declared, but I could see the anger rising on his features, too.
And with Gideon, when I said rising, I meant it. The tats on his arms and throat shimmered in the moonlight as his powers stirred.
“Darius Maximus is your Enforcer?” she asked on a gasp. “Isn’t he the oldest of them all?”
“Yeah, he is,” I told her gruffly.
While there were many Vampire families, only ‘lines’ were on the council. The council was the international governing body that oversaw all aspects of our lives. Each line contributed a councilmember, a Sage—one of the oldest in the line who knew the family’s history—and an Enforcer. Those Enforcers oversaw the brotherhoods and their Sixths.
They were liaisons.
They distributed cases to us.
Darius was a dick. I didn’t like him, but it was a point of pride that he was one of the eldest, and he’d selected us for his brotherhood.
Pride meant a lot in this fucking world of mine. As did ego.
“Now, when you know that Darius Maximus is our Enforcer, tell me why you’re scared of Julian Addams?” I demanded, my chest puffing out.
“Because Lily Addams called dibs on you,” she told us quietly. “And if I dare upset the balance then . . .” Marcella shrugged. “Only the Maker knows what will happen to me.”
* * *
Keiran
I'd never been so confused since the brotherhood had first come together. Cade and Gideon had come back from their run and something was clearly bothering them, but neither of them had spilled the beans to Barclay, Raven, or me yet. I knew it had to be something to do with either the coming match, if they had already heard about it, or possibly Marcella. The four of them seemed to have fallen under the little Sixth’s spell.
Marcella was attractive, to be sure, but I knew that the more attention we paid to her, the less likely it was she'd be selected to be our Sixth. It was like a human kid setting their heart on a specific birthday present and getting socks instead. Socks were useful, and usually needed, but they weren't the bright shiny toy you wanted to play with.
As the five of us marched to the training hall once again, I found I was beginning to get sick of everything that was going on at Westbrook.
Raven had told us exactly what he'd found in Master Lee's mind, and with the other girl, Lily, using her magic during the weapons demonstration, it was all getting under my skin. This place was just as corrupt and full of torments as Eastbrook.
When the door to the training rooms opened, I wasn't surprised to find all the women lined up already. It had been like that since we first arrived at the school, and it made me feel hella awkward. I'm sure they were under the impression that they were displaying their talents for us, but in reality this was all a performance to make it look as though we had a choice in the matter, to give the Sixths hope and to make us appreciate what they gave us.
Barclay could fool himself all he liked. We had no say in matters such as these.
We’d fight whom our Enforcer told us to fight. Bind ourselves to whoever he told us to, and fuck whomever he wanted. Pursang or otherwise.
Master Lee was standing in front of the line of women and had been talking when we entered. Once we were inside and the door closed behind us, he continued, “Magic only. Any variation you wish, so long as it does not cause immediate death. You are much too valuable to the brotherhoods to lose,” he intoned with a note that said he didn’t agree with his last statement.
“Alpha pairings again,” he carried on. “Anyone ranked below alpha will be on the left side of the room facing off against each other tournament style, so it's in your best interest not to use up all your energy reserves right away. Understood?”
A chorus of “Yes, Master Lee” sounded with some of them rolling their eyes as they disappeared off to the left, where I had no doubt they would be fighting just as viciously as the alphas.
Once they were done with their fights, they wouldn't be watching each other though, just like I wouldn't be watching them. All of us would have our eyes glued to Marcella and Lily.
As though my subconscious was five steps ahead of me, I already knew exactly where they were, but when I looked at them, I was surprised to find Marcella not studying Lily as I expected. Instead, she was watching Gideon and Cade.
As I watched, I saw first Cade then Gideon nod, ever so slightly, as though to encourage her. Her brows drew together as she turned back to Lily, and her face shifted from unsure to confident.
Whatever had happened between those three was enough to prompt the Sixth to fight even harder; it was obvious from her change in stance. Her knees bent slightly, and her shoulders squared, while her face shifted from expressive to carefully blank. She wasn’t going to give anything away for free if she didn’t have to this time around—that much was evident.
The two of them were outfitted in similar clothes. They were specially designed tunics and pants that would help lessen physical magic attacks. Today was all about stamina and using their abilities wisely. It was like running a marathon in shorts instead of jeans.
Lily's tunic was a pale cream, which complemented her hair and made her blue eyes sparkle. It was also spotless and probably brand-new or cleaned with magic itself so that nothing marred its smooth surface. Lily was eager for this fight, which was obvious. The little smirk said everything. She thought she'd already won, but I wasn't going to count Marcella out just yet, especially not after the exchange I’d just witnessed.
Marcella's tunic was about as opposite Lily's as possible. The thing was charred
around the edges, and patched, tears sewn up here and there, and the pale-green color it had once been was long gone, leaving only a hint of itself behind. Her flame-red hair had been pulled up in a tight French braid, with the end folded over on itself multiple times so it didn't get caught by any stray spells.
A low chime sounded, and the women began pacing around the mats, while we took our seats on the benches off to the side, the legs scraping against the wood floor as we sat down. More than two had been pushed together for this event, and I figured, based on their hand-to-hand combat and the swordsmanship they had both displayed before, that this was going to be a knock-down-drag-out kind of fight.
Each of them fought with a focus, an object designed to help them channel their powers, which was now drawn. I wasn't surprised to see Lily sporting a classically-styled wand, albeit one that looked like it cost more than a luxury vehicle. The thick piece of stone she held in her hand was probably onyx based, one with gold swirling like filigree around its shaft, and a diamond tip. The whole thing was about half as long as her forearm.
Marcella's was different to say the least. The bulk of it was carved from wood, with delicate metal work wrapping around it.
Even from here, I could see the crescent moon and inverted ankh symbols. They represented feminine power and healing through blood. When all that was combined with the amethyst protruding from the end, it was obvious that this was as much about protection as it was a weapon. Marcella's focus was much longer than Lily's, covering the whole distance between her elbow and fingertips, but it looked much frailer.
Both women would be able to cast without using a focus, but this was a matter of greater magic, using and controlling it to the point where they could be trusted to be out among mortals without revealing our existence. Once a brotherhood and their Sixth were in the field, she would never be without her focus. There would be nothing flying from the tip of the object, there was no boy-wizard here, just energy that was being manipulated, and ninety-percent of the time that energy was invisible to the naked eye.
The two of them circled each other slowly, sizing up one another. While I'm sure this wasn't their first fight, it was their first fight with us as an audience, and that counted for something, especially when we all knew Lily had cheated during the first fight we’d witnessed.