by Helen Scott
Drake grunted. “Her powers are extraordinary.”
I couldn’t argue. Reaching up to rub my chin as the ‘thing’ on the ground began to take shape once more, I grimaced and murmured, “That’s an understatement.”
And with it, Marcella’s time, if she only knew, had just run out.
Marcella
The Cavalry had been in the basement for a while when I disappeared to my room. I didn’t know what they were doing, not really. I knew what they said they were doing, but I didn’t believe them. Not fully. Sure, they claimed they were prepping the prisoners to leave with the council, but were they lying?
The second they’d spoken of their intentions, I’d released my hold on the mummified guy. My hellcat, tucked away deep in my soul, had grumbled at the request to let him go, but the creature had obeyed.
I wanted to say that I’d ‘reinflated’ my prisoner, but that made him sound like a movie prop or busted beach ball with a leak, and he was neither, he was just the man who had almost killed one of my mates.
Nausea rolled through me at the mere thought of what could have happened if I hadn’t called Rhys in for help with Gideon’s condition, even if Rhys and the Cavalry had brought a whole heaping pile of shit tumbling down over us.
In the face of that avalanche of crap, getting rid of the prisoners and turning them over to the council wasn’t something I should be struggling with, and yet I was.
Relinquishing them to the council was the right thing to do, I knew that, just like I knew that the less the council was paying attention to us the better, but it didn’t help. I still wanted to slaughter each of the prisoners, drain them of their blood for what they had done to Gid.
It also didn’t help that I still blamed myself for what happened to Cade either. I knew that I was taking it out on myself as much as I wanted to take it out on them.
It was why my dreams had been so disturbing. Darkness swallowing me whole, over and over again, until there was nothing left of me but a seed that started to grow, only to be destroyed by the darkness once more.
I sighed and pushed my hair away from my face. Sleep sounded so good right now, but I had only really been able to rest if Keir was controlling my dreams or I was cuddled up next to one of them. Part of me wished they were all relaxed enough to sleep in the same bed with me, but I doubted that would ever happen.
The idea of Darius and Cade snuggling each other was enough to make me laugh out loud to myself, though, and shit, I hadn’t realized how much I’d needed to chuckle.
“Am I interrupting?” Darius’s voice came from the doorway.
I shook my head before saying, “No, nothing to interrupt.” I wasn’t doing anything. I was just sitting in Raven’s room, staring out at the backyard and the pool, trying not to lose my rage.
Darius had called the council hours ago, and I was just waiting for our house to be a little bit emptier than it currently was. After the waiting was over, well, I had a to-do list, and top of that list?
Making Darius mine.
“Why are you up here?” he asked, his brow furrowing as he saw my focus was on him. All of him.
Damn, the male was fine.
“I don’t want to see them when they’re brought out of the cellar.” I paused before I added quietly, “I’m not sure my Vampire could handle it.”
He was beside me on the bed then, as quick as a light being turned on. I’d never seen anyone move as fast as him. Not even the Masters at Westbrook, and his speed turned me on something fierce. Maker, everything about him turned me on. His scent, his style, even the stick he had shoved up his ass—all of him made me melt.
“Let me take you out. You’ll be stuck in here for hours if you’re waiting on the council’s envoy. I doubt they’ll be here today, probably sometime tomorrow, so we have tonight free. We can go out on the town, or just go to dinner, or even see a movie. Whatever you want.”
“Like a date?” I asked, a grin forming on my lips as I did so. It was so normal, so girl-next-door, and Maker, my life had been anything but. The notion of a date fascinated me, and it made me fall that little bit harder for him.
“If that’s what you want to call it.” He smiled at me, and those dimples popped out, absolutely slaying me. He had to know what he was doing to me, right? No one could smile like that without realizing what they were doing, could they?
“A date it is,” I replied, grinning like a teenage girl, which was something I’d never really had a chance to be, in truth. “Should I dress up?”
“If you want.” He shrugged. “Just be you, that’s all I want. Well, that and a chance for us to get to know each other a little better.” The smooth, hardened Enforcer was gone for a moment, and all that was left was the man behind the mask. It made me wonder what he must have been like as a youth. Did he flirt with all the girls in his village? Or was he a shy teen who kept to himself?
My hand came up of its own accord to cup his cheek as I searched his eyes for something, although I wasn’t sure what. When his eyes flashed the mercurial silver of his Vampire, I felt it resonate within my soul, and my own Vampire wanted to come out and play.
Enticed, I breathed in deeply and pushed her back down, forcing her to wait, and promising her it would be just a little while longer.
“I can’t wait,” I whispered.
“I’ll come by your room at six or so, and we can decide what we want to do.” He sounded so sure, as though he’d already made up his mind about what we were going to do and was just giving me the illusion of options.
I honestly didn’t mind either way.
It wasn’t like I’d spent enough time in the human world to know what I wanted to do. So far, all I’d seen of it were gas stations and cheap motels until we had called on the Cavalry for help.
Without another sound, he dropped a kiss on my forehead and swept out of the room, leaving me feeling... lonely. I had my guys, but I knew next to nothing about being a girl. The only clothes I had were ones that we’d picked up along the way, most of which I hadn’t even paid attention to. The guys had grabbed things for me when they saw something, but I wore the same few outfits over and over, and most of the time, I ended up in their shirts. They’d tried, but we’d been on the run for weeks. It wasn’t like I’d needed a full wardrobe for that.
A date sounded wonderful but… Maker. Even if I could pick out an outfit, I needed to do something with my hair, and what about makeup? The other girls at Westbrook had worn it all the time, and I knew next to nothing about it.
I needed help. Pronto. Except the only other woman within any sort of reasonable distance that might know anything about this kind of stuff was Elizabeth. Now, how the hell did I persuade someone we’d held captive to help me dress for a date? This was insane. I flopped backward on my bed. There was no way she’d go for it, was there?
This was dumb, but I was beyond desperate. I couldn’t go out with my suave and debonair mate in one of my other mate’s shirt and yoga pants, for Maker’s sake!
Desperate times called for desperate measures, and I hauled myself off the bed and made it downstairs before I could second-guess myself.
Once there, I found myself interrupting an awkward staring contest between Elizabeth and Rhys. I wasn’t sure where the other Ancients were, nor did I care. My pursang decided to start snarling at being close to the prisoners, but once she accepted the fact they were all tied down, she didn’t boil over. It helped that they all looked miserable. Miserable and wet. Hell, they were drenched. Was this a form of water torture? My Vampire purred in pleasure at the prospect.
Maker, she was a bitch.
“Yes, little shadow weaver, how can I help you?” the Ancient’s words slipped from between his lips without him taking his eyes off Elizabeth.
“Actually, I was hoping she would help me,” I answered, my own voice a little gravelly from nerves and the fact my pursang’s moods were like a ping-pong ball bouncing around inside me.
My statement had both of them staring
at me in amazement. Elizabeth’s expression alone told me it would be a cold day in hell before she pissed on me if I was on fire, never mind giving me fashion tips. Fuck, I was an idiot for even thinking of this. Well, an idiot or just a girl.
A girl who really wanted to impress her boy.
Ugh. Pathetic but true.
“Why do you want her help?” Rhys asked, his eyes round.
“I need advice on a date outfit, and she’s the only woman for miles.”
“I could help you,” Rhys replied as Elizabeth sneered at me. That was probably a no from her then—figured. Before today I’d have needed to be tortured too before I gave anyone dating tips. The Ancient one added, “You know that I am fated to someone else, so you don’t have to worry about me being inappropriate or anything. Plus, after being around for a long time, I like to think I’ve got a pretty good eye for fashion.”
“I’ll take any help I can get,” I said, feeling like a stupid woman, but Maker, I was entitled to let my ovaries rule me at some point in my life. And tonight? Well, this wasn’t just an ordinary date. Tonight, Darius and I were going to bond, and I refused to do that in a sleepshirt.
I was also relieved about not having to ask one of my guys for help. It wasn’t that I thought they would be offended, more that if I started trying on outfits in front of them, then we would get distracted, and I wouldn’t be able to resist their wiles.
Hell, I could barely resist them even when they weren’t trying to seduce me. The urge to physically reconnect with them was strong, and I promised myself that after tonight, I would make it a point to spend time with each of them.
Managing being in a relationship with six men was way more difficult than I had imagined, but also, I wasn’t about to start complaining.
Being with them was a delight, it was the other crap that got in the way. The other crap that I resented.
But we’d have our time in the sun. And under the moon. I just had to have faith and had to be patient.
Shame that my well of patience had dried up after I’d left Westbrook…
Chapter Eight
Marcella
Whatever I’d anticipated when I’d procured the Ancient’s advice, it hadn’t been my own Pretty Woman moment. If anything, I’d thought he’d look at my selection of yoga pants and tees, and declare me too hopeless to help.
Instead?
There were four women here outside, each pulling racks with clothes draped in covers.
Was this for real?
I felt a tug on my plait as I stared out the window. “What’s wrong?”
Turning to face Rhys, I murmured, “You’ve been a dick since you got here. Why are you being nice now?”
“My moods are as fickle as the weather. Be grateful that I am in a benevolent frame of mind,” he intoned, prompting me to roll my eyes.
“Bullshit.” His scowl appeared, and the second it did, I murmured, “There’s the Rhys I’m used to seeing. Not a fairy godfather.”
“You mistake how much effort it required on my part to draw these people here,” he retorted, his tone snooty now.
“I’m not complaining, just trying not to get whiplash.” Plus, I didn’t trust him. It had been a move born of desperation seeking help from Elizabeth. I suppose torturing her wouldn’t predispose her to help me, but though I was grateful for Rhys’s help, I wasn’t sure why he was helping me in the first place.
“You know not the toil on our shoulders,” he rasped, his gaze on the people gathering outside the portico that led to the house. I anticipated a knock on the door at any moment.
“I guess not,” I mused, looking up at him. “Are you friends with Darius?”
“We are both old. It gives us a bond that few can understand.”
“So, you don’t like each other, you just get along because he walks the same path as you?”
He cut me a look. “Liking is something mortals do, Marcella. As you age, you will see that. Trust your brotherhood, your mates, no one else.”
“Not even you?”
He grinned. “Depending on your reason for living, I may, one day, bow down to you.”
That had me scowling. “What the hell do you mean?”
Rhys tapped his nose at the same time a rap sounded at the door. “Your makeover awaits,” he stated, instead of answering. Damn him.
As the small team of personal stylists appeared with clothes racks laden down with designer gear, I cursed him for his statement. What had he meant? He’d bow down to me? Why would he? That made no sense, did it?
Our society worked on a system of honor. How many years you lived, the more respect you gained. I was a baby in comparison to him. Yet Rhys didn’t seem to be the kind of male who’d say something if he didn’t mean it. He just wouldn’t say anything period.
Uneasily, I followed him down the hall toward the door.
This place was luxurious, luxury personified even. My mate owned this, and only the Maker knew how many other properties around the States, hell, around the world. He was rich beyond anything I could even begin to comprehend, and his power? As Enforcer to a council line, he was…
I blew out a breath, suddenly overwhelmed.
He looked at me as though I’d put the sun in the sky, and yet, here I was, a bag full of shitty clothes to my name and little else on my side other than trouble. But he wanted me. Me. Even in the yoga pants that had seen better days, he looked at me like I was a queen.
His queen.
The thought had me gnawing on my bottom lip.
I wanted that.
More than I could put into words.
Striding a little faster, I grabbed Rhys’s hand before he could open the door. Holding his wrist, I forced him to look at me. “Thank you. For this, I mean.”
He dipped his chin. “It will be fun.”
“Fun?” My eyes widened. “Not sure how true that is.”
He grinned. “You just pick whatever you want. Darius is paying for it all anyway, and the man makes Rockefeller look poor.”
I frowned. “You say that like you knew him.”
Rhys tapped his nose again—shit, he kept on doing that, and it made me want to punch him.
Gritting my teeth, I turned to grab the door instead of his appendage, and seeing the beaming faces aimed my way, I shot each cheery stylist a weak smile. I wasn’t good with cheerful people. If they knew how the world truly worked, they wouldn’t be smiling.
Hell, if my pursang broke through my control, these females could all be the Vampire’s supper.
Ugh.
That was not something I should have thought about. Now I was hungry, dammit.
Stepping back to let them in even though my pursang growled at me for it, I heard one of the women gasp and turned back to see why. Cade was standing there, half naked, his torso on display, his body lean and long, covered in perspiration. He was so wet, it looked like he’d been working out, but he hadn’t been. He’d been asleep.
Again.
And from the looks of him, he’d been enduring more dreams. Bad ones.
“God, he’s so hot,” one of the stylists whispered, and the flurry of giggles had what I’d only just thought about leaping to the surface. My pursang was outraged, and me? I wasn’t feeling that much better.
“Marcella?”
Rhys’s hand clamped down on my shoulder, drawing my attention his way. I wasn’t sure what he was. Vampire, walker, or shifter—I didn’t think he was druid, even if he’d claimed otherwise, because he didn’t have that same ozone scent that Gideon seemed to exude—but his strength was evident in the taut grip he had on me.
“Yes?” I rumbled, knowing, without having to look in a damn mirror, that my eyes were flashing silver.
“Comport yourself.”
It was grimly stated, and though I wanted to snort at his archaic statement, I gritted my teeth as I dipped my chin.
The pursang was jealous.
Envious.
She coveted.
She’d kill
to keep other females’ eyes from her mates’ forms.
I sucked down a sharp breath, the words she whispered in my ear making it suddenly hard to get my lungs under control.
I could taste their blood.
Could fucking taste it.
Could feel it sliding down my throat. The heat, the wet, the fucking flavor of iron.
Why?
This wasn’t my first time around humans, dammit. But these four? Maker, I wanted their blood.
Wanting to groan, instead, I rasped, “Cade? Please, put a shirt on.”
He looked down at me in a daze, but he didn’t listen. He was on the mezzanine floor above the large foyer. It was an oddly laid out house. The central foyer was like a spider, each leg led to different rooms, but this was the center of the property. The room was so high, though, that it could be split by the mezzanine landing which led to the staircase. A staircase Cade was dazedly descending.
“He sleeps?” Rhys questioned, and I heard the concern in his voice.
“I-I think so.”
Another giggle from one of the stylists, but this time it was nervous. They’d taken a step into the house, one of them had closed the door behind them, and they were shut inside, so close to me that I could hear their hearts beating, their pulses starting to increase with the oddity of the situation.
I’d been around humans before, dammit. Hadn’t wanted to slaughter them as they stood dithering. But something was different.
I was different.
It didn’t take much to figure they were freaked out. After all, a dazed, half-naked male was stepping toward them, and Rhys, who was built like a blond god, was holding me, a small female growling like a dog under her breath, back.
They probably thought they’d walked into a Stephen King movie.
“What is it, Cade?” Rhys demanded, dragging my attention from the thumping pulses that made my mouth salivate.
“Marcella is hungry,” Cade whispered.
“I am now,” I grumbled.
“She’s hungry,” he repeated, not hearing the words. “Morgana says she must feed.”
