Draven

by Patricia A. Rasey

  Spike actually laughed, not freaking out at the paranormal scene he had just happened upon. No, he looked about, a sadistic smile making his grisly self even uglier. He turned back to Raúl. “I don’t know how you managed this bloodsucker shit, but I want in.”

  “You don’t even know what the fuck you’re asking for, Spike.” Louis nudged Draven with the barrel of the gun toward the center of the room within reach of Spike.

  Draven growled but kept his hands to himself … for now. “I hate to tell you this, asshole, but now that you know what Raúl is, no way he’s letting you walk out of here alive. You should have stayed upstairs.”

  The biker looked at Raúl. “That true?”

  “Depends.”

  “On?” Spike continued to prod. The idiot just couldn’t help himself.

  “Your ability to keep your mouth shut.”

  “You letting me drink from the water?” Spike rubbed his hands together. “If so, I’ll keep my mouth shut. This could be some serious ass fun.”

  If Draven could distract Raúl, he believed he could take out Spike, Louis, and Francisco with little effort. Plan C began to form. He looked to Brea, who stilled in Raúl’s hold. Draven prayed she played along.

  “Why not take her upstairs, Raúl? You got me. No way I’m walking out of here alive.” The gun at his back nudged him forward again. He stumbled as if proving his point. “There’s no need for her to see this go down.”

  “Draven—” Raúl’s arm tightened.

  “Do yourself a favor and get her the fuck out of here, Raúl. She watches me die, and you’ll earn her hate.”

  “Yeah, Raúl,” Spike taunted, snarling. “Take her pretty little ass out of here. I got dibs for seconds.”

  Her godfather’s complexion darkened. He bared his long razor-sharp fangs. “I should take your head where you stand, chico. Brea belongs to me. No one touches her but me. ¿Comprende?”

  Spike held his hands up. “Relax. It was just a joke. Take her upstairs. What’s about to go down isn’t for her eyes. I’m going to help take out the garbage. When I’m done, we’ll talk about you getting me a pair of those kick ass fangs.”

  Raúl must have finally seen the wisdom in shielding Brea from watching Draven take his last breath. Backing her from the room, Brea started fighting and kicking like a hellcat, making Draven proud. But in the end, her godfather’s strength far outmatched hers. Raúl’s hold wasn’t giving.

  Once they rounded the corner and were out of sight, Draven turned, taking in the three remaining players. Spike didn’t have a gun, making him the least of the threats. Louis and Francisco, on the other hand, each had an assault rival aimed at his chest. Draven heard Brea call out to him, just before he heard the sound of flesh hitting flesh and a door slamming closed. Fuck! When he was done with these three, he was going to enjoy killing Raúl … very fucking slowly. The man didn’t deserve a swift death.

  Time to pay the piper.

  Draven turned and stepped toward the biker. “You ever get the feeling of foreboding, Spike?”

  The dirtbag chuckled. “I’m betting you’re sorry you ever got tangled up with the cartel, huh? I have yet to thank you properly for turning the Devils into the DEA yet, asswipe. You and Rogue, you’re both going down.”

  “Not. Going. To. Happen.”

  The smile never left Spike’s face. As a matter of fact, he had no way of seeing what was coming. Draven moved with lightning speed, pulling Spike in front of him, holding him like a shield. Both rifles fired in his direction. The biker’s body jerked as the first round of bullets riveted him. Draven tossed him like a sack of dirt at the smaller of the two men, then tackled Louis, ripping out his throat before he had a chance to utter a sound.

  A bullet caught Draven in the back, tearing through his lung and causing him to hiss. Moving with precision, he grabbed the other man by the head and twisted hard, easily snapping his neck. Draven’s breath sawed out of him as his lung already began to heal. He glanced around at the carnage. Raúl’s men were both dead, and Spike was not far from it. Draven could’ve finished him off, but he preferred the fucker die slowly, to bleed out.

  Spike didn’t deserve his mercy.

  Skirting the bodies and the upended table, he headed for the stairs, taking them two at a time. He didn’t want to alert Raúl by calling out, though they’d likely hear his footsteps on the stairs. At the top landing, he paused, listening for a sound, anything to indicate which room he had taken Brea. Silence greeted him. Jogging down the long hall, Draven opted for the door at the end—what he hoped to be the master suite.

  He opened the door with such force, the knob slammed against the interior wall and stuck into the plaster. The bedroom was dark, his enhanced sight told him it was also empty. The sound of running water drew his gaze to the entrance of the en suite. Light spilled beneath the closed door. Ripping it from the hinges, he found Brea pale and fully submerged, unmoving beneath the surface of the Jacuzzi’s water.

  “Jesus!”

  Draven slid across the floor and dropped to his knees, pulling Brea from the oversized tub. He laid her upon the white marble tile and began pumping her sternum until water spewed from her lungs. Brea coughed and gulped for air.

  “You okay?”

  She quickly nodded, holding her throat.

  “Where is he?” Draven asked, turning the knobs and shutting off the flow of the water.

  Brea coughed again, attempting to clear her water-logged throat. Finally, she said, “I don’t know. He … he strangled me until I passed out. I couldn’t stop him. He’s strong, Draven. He has Kane’s blood lineage.”

  “I’ll stop him, Brea. Mark my words. I’ll take him out the way same way he took out Kinky … right between the fucker’s eyes.”

  Draven jumped to his feet and sprinted back down the hall, leaping from the landing to the floor below, and into to the dining area, hoping to get to the assault rifles left behind before Raúl got his hands on them. He skidded to a halt. Three men lay dead on the terracotta tiles, their blood already congealing. Raúl’s men. The back door was wide open, swinging in the slight breeze, with no sign of Raúl or the fatally wounded Spike.

  “Son of a bitch.”

  Chapter 21

  “What the fuck?” Kaleb jammed a hand through his short curly hair. “When the hell did I lose control?”

  Kane chuckled. “Calm down, bro. It’s not as bad as it seems.”

  “Really?” He looked at Draven and Brea, his hand indicating the guilty party. “We have two vampires that shouldn’t exist—”

  “Three … actually.” Draven couldn’t help reminding him of Raúl’s vampire status.

  Draven liked Kaleb, he did, but at times such as this he seemed a wee bit over the top in dramatics. Okay, so technically, Kaleb should’ve heard about Brea long before this. As for him, he should have gotten permission to be turned and maybe even thought about joining up with the Sons of Sangue. But hell, that wasn’t his life. And truthfully, he was quite happy running the bar and managing the donor society. He didn’t need to be a member of the MC to do that.

  As for Raúl…

  “Don’t fucking remind me! Vlad gets word of this and we’ll all be toast.” Kaleb perched his fists onto his hips. “One of the worst pieces of shit on this planet, and he’s a fucking vampire. This ain’t going to be good on any level. More like a colossal disaster.”

  Kane stood, ignoring his twin’s theatrics, and skirted the large table in the meeting room of the clubhouse. He held out his hand to Draven, which he took, giving him a half hug and slap on the back of the shoulder. “Welcome, bro. Ignore Hawk. He’s having a meltdown.”

  Kane chuckled, winked at Brea, then pulled her into his embrace. “Cara’s going to love you. We’ll get you all introduced after we’re done in here. I’m sure we have some ears to the door out there wondering what’s going on. Too bad they can’t hear a damn thing through that wood.”

  “We should call, Vlad.” Kaleb regained Kane’s atte
ntion.

  “We should and we will, Hawk.” Kane walked over to him and draped his arm over his shoulders. “How about we let the dust settle first. You need to calm the fuck down and we need to welcome these two into the fold.”

  “We never talked about patching him over,” Kaleb said, which he didn’t seem all that happy about.

  Draven was perfectly fine with not wearing rockers.

  “About that, Hawk.” He stepped forward. “With all due respect, I’d rather not. Not that I don’t respect the hell out of you guys, but I’m happy running my bar, providing donors. I’d rather leave all the MC excitement to you guys. If that’s okay, I’ve had enough excitement for a good long while.”

  Kaleb sighed, looking relieved of not having to call a meeting and put to a vote what to do with him. “I’m sure you have.”

  Draven wrapped one arm behind Brea’s back and tucked her against his side. “Brea’s had enough as well. If it’s all right with the rest of you, we’re here if you need us. We got your back, man—but Brea and I need some time to get to know one another. Hell, she still needs to come to terms with Kinky’s death and put him to rest. Not to mention she has to get used to the fact she’s mated to my sorry ass.”

  Brea looked up at him and smiled. Draven’s heart melted right there, a big old puddle of goo. When the hell had he lost his balls? She placed a hand over his heart. “You big dumb fool, I fell in love with you back at the cabin.”

  Draven smiled. Big as could be. He couldn’t man up and hide that shit if he wanted to. He pulled Brea into his embrace and slanted his lips over hers, kissing her deeply, earning him an instant hard-on and a set of big ass fangs for his actions.

  “Whoa,” Kaleb spoke up. “You two need to get a fucking room. Seriously. I don’t need to see that shit.”

  Draven stepped back and looked into Brea’s warm eyes. He couldn’t miss the truth he saw there. She loved his big dumb ass. “Man, I fucking love this woman. I’ve been enamored with you from the moment you stepped into my bar. Falling in love with you was the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

  “And the smartest.” She chuckled. “Can we go home?”

  “As in my apartment?”

  “That is if you don’t mind me moving in.”

  Draven crushed her to him and kissed her again, one filled with possession. His. God, how he loved the sound of that. He never thought he’d see the day when just one woman would own his heart.

  “Let’s go get your stuff.”

  Kane cleared his throat. “There is one more matter we do need to deal with. Raúl. You know he’s going to come gunning for you two. He’s far from done. Does he or anyone else know where you live?”

  “Just my bartender, who manages the Blood ‘n’ Rave. Other than that, no.” He shook his head. “I always kept my life private from the bar. I’ve never even taken a woman there before Brea.”

  “We need to keep that on the down-low to keep you two safe. If word gets out and Raúl learns your whereabouts, we’ll move you into the clubhouse. Xander and Wolf can bunk.”

  “Like hell,” Alexander Dumitru said, striding into the room in time to hear who he might be rooming with if things got hairy and Raúl came to town. Grigore “Wolf” Lupie and Ryder Kelley were quick on his heels. The three men bunked at the clubhouse, having just gotten the bachelor pad back after Kaleb and Grayson “Gypsy” Gabor moved their women and families out.

  Kaleb growled. “Can you not follow directions? This is a private church meeting.”

  “Which involves all of us if the La Paz cartel kingpin is involved.” Alexander crossed his thick arms over his chest. “Looks like Pleasant is about to get a whole lot more interesting.”

  “If Raúl finds out Draven and Brea are back in town and where they are hanging their head,” Kaleb said, “we’ll need to protect them against him and his men, not to mention Spike and the Devils.”

  “We’re here for our friends. No doubt about that. But Ryder and Wolf can bunk up if need be. No one’s bunking in my room. India has dibs on my bed for the time being. I’m on the couch.”

  “When the fuck did that happen?” Kaleb all but growled. “Why the hell am I just now hearing about this?”

  Alexander hid a smile, the twinkle in his eyes giving him away. “It was a need to know basis. And since I have yet to figure out what the hell is going on, other than offering her my friendship through her pregnancy—”

  “What the fuck? Yours?”

  Kaleb looked ready to kill someone. Draven thought maybe Alexander would be better off backing up. Instead, the biker held his ground.

  “You really aren’t thinking clearly, P.” Alexander laughed, not at all offended by Kaleb’s ugly mood. “She’s not a vamp. I can’t get her pregnant. Besides, I’m not sleeping with her.”

  “Keep it that fucking way.” Kaleb glared. “Who’s the baby daddy?”

  “I have no idea. She’s not talking.”

  Rubbing his jaw, he said. “We will talk about this later. At a proper church meeting.”

  Alexander nodded, wisely saying nothing further. Draven figured Kaleb had been pushed far enough for one day. Learning about Raúl’s vampire status was more than enough, add in Draven and Brea into the mix, was certainly cause for a spike in his blood pressure.

  Time to leave the Sons to their business.

  Draven had other business he was more than ready to attend to, having to do with the little lady tucked at his side and a set of pristine white sheets. Thank goodness the filthy little cabin was left behind. He was ready to make love to Brea properly. Just the thought had his dick straining the front of his jeans.

  “You guys look like you have a lot to talk about.” Draven looked down at Brea. “I think it’s past time I take my mate home.”

  Kane walked over and placed a hand on Brea’s shoulder. “Go, get some rest. We’ll introduce you to our mates later. No need to listen to Hawk’s tirades.”

  Draven shook Kane’s hand, said his good-byes, then led Brea from the clubhouse. He opened the passenger door to his Chevy Camaro, glad to have his car back. Thankfully, it had still been parked right where they had left it before trekking through the woods in Mexico. Brea slid inside, looking very much at home there. He was definitely going to like having her around.

  He walked around the vehicle and got in behind the wheel, starting the car. The engine rumbled to life. He placed his hands on the gear shift between the seats. Brea reached over and covered his hand with her tinier one.

  “You ready for this?” she asked him.

  Draven looked into her beautiful face, thinking he’d never been more ready. He had finally found the one woman he’d love waking up to. Every day.

  “What’s that, sweetheart?”

  “You. Me. Us.” She squeezed his hand. “And this crazy thing we call life.”

  Draven reversed the car, then shifted into gear, and headed out of the parking lot, sending gravel flying in his wake. “Sweetheart, I didn’t know it, but I’ve been waiting for us my entire fucking life. Now how about we get home and see what we can do about dirtying up my sheets?”

  “Spoken like a true man in love.”

  He turned to her briefly and winked. “Give me about fifteen minutes to get you and this car home, and I’ll show you just how much. Besides, I think I still owe you a steak dinner.”

  “I’ll pass on the steak and settle on the how much.” Brea laughed. She moved her hand to his thigh and ran it up his leg, cupping his erection. “Peddle to the floor, babe.”

  And he did, sending the Camaro flying down the highway, heading for Florence. His home … their home. Damn, if he didn’t really love the sound of that.

  ~ * ~

  Next up in the series:

  *note this is a 22,000 word special addition novella

  PREACHER

  Foster child, ex-minister, MC member… Vampire. How the hell had his life gotten so jacked up?

  His life irrevocably changed when he’s made a creature o
f the night, Preacher leaves behind his vampire MC brethren, the Sons of Sangue, hoping to shield the woman he desires most from discovering what he’s become. Problem is Tena isn’t about to let him walk out of her life. To protect her heart, Preacher can’t stay. To protect her life, he has no choice but to keep her close.

  DOWNLOAD NOW

  PREACHER

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