by Talyn Scott
Maestru closed his eyes, bringing her scent inside his body, and letting her heat warm his cold heart. “Drink from me,” he instructed, compelling her to do so. “Take from me that which will save you.” He elongated a single claw, piercing his neck deeply and placing her full lips against his skin. A far cry from her pallor, her mouth was hot, electric. Just the feel of her skin-to-skin pushed his seed up, his sex aching to explode inside her as she nourished herself with his offering. Instead, he stroked Dakota’s cheek, rubbing his fingertips over her jaw and then her ravaged throat. Encouraging her to swallow as blood flooded the back of her throat. “Take from me, sweetheart. Take it.”
As he expected, she started gagging, so he pushed more endorphins into his blood. Ones she could not deny even if she were healthy. “Drink to live. You must obey.” He smelled her arousal after her third swallow. Her lovely scent hit him harder than he imagined it would, and his body’s response shocked him. He gasped when she started writhing beneath him. “Calm down. You’ll reopen your throat.”
A soft plea left her chest, a moan for more.
Considering only her needs, he refused to press his groin against her rising heat. Instead, he nudged his thick thigh between her slender ones and gave her an alternative to rub against. Her body strengthening with every swallow, Dakota perked up, wasting no time using his hard-toned thigh, clamping her supple legs around him and rubbing her aching clit.
He listened with great relief as her heart rate picked up, finally sounding normal, though clearly excited. Dakota’s breathing followed along, delivering oxygen throughout her body before a swift and sudden climatic peak hit her. An even stronger groan left her chest, a deep sound that hit his balls like an SLS rocket, and he took off with Dakota. “No. No, little human.” He panted above her, clenching his teeth until he nearly buried his fangs in his chin. “You are not dying, are you, strong one?”
With Herculean effort, Maestru forced himself to remain still as she continued to undulate, though her urgent movements slowed considerably. He marveled at how his ejaculation seemed endless. Maestru’s pulsating body tightened, released, tightened, and released, spending inside his leathers, as though he were a youthful male with his first lover. Self-depreciating embarrassment never crossed his mind one bit. In a way, he suspected his biological reactions to her would be powerful even before Dakota’s first taste.
Although she quickly drifted back into a restful, deeply satiated sleep, long minutes passed before he reluctantly pulled away from her. He hissed in the way of mollified vampires, adjusting his straining zipper. In selfless satisfaction, he watched on as her wounds closed, healing from his miraculous, ancient blood.
“I’m afraid you are in more danger than any human female alive, because, in my mind, you are mine.” Maestru swiped the telltale blood from her lush mouth with his thumb. What would a crimson kiss between them taste like? “Another intimacy I cannot afford myself.”
Dakota would never remember this shared intimacy.
However, Maestru would never forget.
“Think of my earlier warning. How you survive in your new world depends on your ensuring strength and resolve. So when I come to collect my blood debt, and I will, remember to say no,” he cautioned her, willing the words into her subconscious. “Will it work? Probably not, but do it anyway.” He put his shirt on, tucking it inside his pants. “My innocent Dakota, never, ever, allow this Coven Master to drink from you.”
Chapter Six
Half Of The Truth
Ryan sent away his feeders, watching as the two men headed back to the beach. Careful to keep their facility’s location discrete, he walked far away from the tunnel’s entrance with Rock covering him. He had no energy to mist or even go past a slow gait. Rock may have carried him last night, but Species pride dictated that would not happen again, so he trudged on.
Rock inclined his dark head to passing werewolves who had temporarily relocated their precious, few females on Marco Island. Rock remained a popular male. His position as the highest guard, a Beast a few seats from the Alpha, held a distinct place of precedence within the werewolf Pack. Of course, all immortal females craved power, looks, and authority. Rock had those three wrapped up. Yet, for countless reasons, humans, such as Dakota, would do well to stay away from him.
Currently, Marco Island remained on lock down. The two local factions would never stop humans from coming in and out, but if the guard count were any indication, all physical efforts would stop rogue Habalines cold in their tracks. Yet if they happened to fail, a far-reaching miasma presently encompassed the small piece of land. Ryan noticed a large wedge of magic as Bane Ruyter’s signature work, though he knew his shift would soon be over. Earlier, in the urgent care room shared with Dakota, Dr. Holt mentioned he and his co-mates would see Renee off on her and Arian’s last-minute trip to Norway. Then another Were Beast would take the Beta’s place, fabricating miasma with uncommon colors only seen by immortals. They changed from shift to shift with the great Beast who manipulated them.
“When you’re ready to tell me what this is all about, feel free,” said Rock quietly, adjusting his long stride to match Ryan’s slower pace.
Not exactly fitting in, both wore dark boots, jeans, and practically matching charcoal pullovers, since black absorbed bloodstains.
“Let you know what? That you cannot feed her your Beast’s blood? What’s there to figure out? Your essence won’t work unless she’s your mate and usually won’t work for injuries that severe, even if she were.” He kept walking, twirling his tongue through his lip ring, surprised it wasn’t ripped out during the Habaline’s melee. “Species blood is the only choice to heal injured humans. You’ve been around long enough to know that. And due to my wounds, I couldn’t deliver,” he spat, infuriated with himself for nearly bleeding out. “Besides, if she’s going to live, Maestru’s primordial blood is her only hope. She needs every chance she can get.”
They reached an overhang covering the entrance to an ice-cream pallor. Rock’s hand shot out, cupping Ryan’s nape. “You know that’s not what I’m talking about.” With his free hand, he tapped his jugular, eyes of his Beast narrowing in great offense. “How long have we been friends? If you were on your last breath, Ryan, would you have bitten me?” His rough pants were close enough to flutter Ryan’s inky lashes, his Beast prowling near the surface.
That question confused Ryan.
“Your answer is deafening,” Rock continued in a dangerous whisper. “After your attack, you told me you were fine. Under the guise of prioritizing Dakota, you chose to wait until I could come back for you with a feeder in tow.”
He jerked back, pushing him away. “She is my priority. A human who works for me is under my protection. And she’s been my friend since high school.”
“Your heart stopped three times during the night.” Rock raised a corner of his lip, flashing white teeth. “Dru almost made you Undead.”
Ryan had no time to continue this after he scented that delicious female Maestru had pointed out from beneath the island. Sweet, young stamina, her youthful blood was his for his taking, and she was just around the corner.
Clueless a predator was about to strike.
Rock sensed his change, following him as he rounded the bend. There she was, radiating human innocence. No older than twenty, he thought. “She smells of orange blossoms,” he said to Rock, though his voice remained inaudible to her ears.
He beckoned her with his eyes, his sneaky Species ways drawing her further into the alleyway. Although she was attractive, she looked baffled that he would notice her. But he didn’t care about her looks, wouldn’t take any of her offers of sex. This was all about feeding. She came closer. Ryan continued to lure her with his looks and coerced her to relax, planting images in her mind that never happened, never would happen. She sank against him. His muscles tensed with her slight weight as his body remained in incredible pain. But nothing could stop him from biting down.
Moaning aloud as her wet crimson hit his p
alate and flowed down his throat; he wiggled his tongue against her skin, urging more fluid to the surface as he drew deeply. He swallowed and swallowed and swallowed, until he felt her life’s essence flow through him, kicking up his heart as well as his cock. Her knees started buckling before Ryan realized his mistake, he’d taken nearly too much. And he hadn’t completed that transgression since he was a horny teen, sucking and fucking for the simple pleasure of it all.
Rock caught his attention by pushing his index finger between Ryan’s mouth and the woman’s throat. A stupid move to come between predator and prey, but a werewolf, such as Rock, could take him on without any worries. “She’s going to be in Dakota’s shape if you keep this up.”
Instead of listening, Ryan bit harder; glaring at his friend as he downed what remained in his mouth. The werewolf stared back, pacing behind those periwinkle eyes. Back and forth. Back and forth. “Fine,” he snapped after releasing her throat, licking her closed without leaving Rock’s stare. “Three humans, but I am still hungry.”
After shaking off his Beast, Rock took a moment to check her over using a practiced eye. With a reassuring nod, he sent her on her way carrying half the cash from his wallet. From the looks of it, she made out with quite a haul.
Why was he angry at Rock for helping the human female? He’d never know. But he was…angry about something. And he realized that something was Blythe’s disappearance. A matter he pushed to the back of his brain, but it kept popping up. He couldn’t believe his ears when given the awful news, and he was in no position to help. He was a total wreck, and Dakota was worse.
He rolled his shoulders, willing the blood to do its thing, watching on as the young woman crossed the street. “I wouldn’t kill food,” he explained himself without any provocation from Rock.
“You came close.”
“Noted,” Ryan accepted the simple chastisement as his lingering wounds closed, the power finally rushing his veins. While he healed, he turned toward the faction’s hidden tunnel. Maestru was in there with Dakota, probably already finished feeding her. Something he still was unable to do until he downed more blood. Although after Maestru fed her, he probably wouldn’t let Ryan pick up where he left off. Possession was a bitch, and it came far too easily for his kind.
Depending on one’s feelings, feeding could be an extremely intimate circumstance. If Dakota awakened for it, for Maestru…he could not think about that now. The power in possession from shared blood was a phenomenal thing between a master vampire and his supplicant.
He rubbed the tension from his neck, baring his face to the sun while picking up the pace. Even though friends were friends, and he was always loyal, Ryan understood that when it came to Dakota, he had absolutely no say. He couldn’t go against his master. If Rock continued to circle her, he was on his own, doing so at his own risk. After all, Maestru had already threatened to kill Ryan’s parents over Blythe.
“I smell your Beta,” he said over his shoulder, walking away from the dominant werewolf who took up entirely too much space no matter where he stood. “He’s nearing the side entrance to the tunnel.” Ryan turned the next corner and nearly slammed into Bane.
“You missed another rights to mate ceremony,” Bane teased Rock, nodding a greeting at Ryan. “Gage is one satisfied male, and he and Sayer’s mate is extraordinary.”
“You, of all Beasts, know I don’t want to be mated,” Rock tried to shut him down, but Bane wasn’t done yet.
“When you decide to come around,” he said with a laugh, “it may be too late.”
Rock started to back away, but thought twice. “What’s too late? That I choose for myself instead of allowing the celestial pull.”
That shocked the hell out of Ryan. Obviously, Rock really wanted Dakota, but he never took her no matter how many times she invited him to. Ryan always respected the fact that, instead, Rock hooked up with a female and explained from the get-go what wouldn’t happen the next day. If she accepted Rock's no attachment rule, they shared a night of fleeting pleasure. If she wanted more, he walked away.
Only because, one day, Rock would find his celestially appointed mate and didn’t want to fall in love or want a female to love him back. Ryan knew exactly how that went. He hadn’t found his Bride, and he had wanted Blythe so much that, at times, he thought he would go completely crazy. Like Rock, he expected to cross paths with his mate eventually. They had fought many wars, bloody battles, and the occasional territorial fight side-by-side, but none of those resulting injuries came close to the unbearable pain of heartache.
“There’s no allowing the celestial pull.” Bane crossed heavily tattooed arms over his equally tattooed and very bare chest, soaking in the Florida sun. “When it draws you, it is what it is.”
Noticing the tight set to Rock’s heavy shoulders, Ryan interrupted Bane’s fun, “Talk to me, Beta.” He slid in, finally misting down the walkway shielding the outside world. No one else walked the faction tunnel; still, the three shut themselves in a nearby room to keep out nosy immortals.
“No clue where Blythe is.” Bane braced his hands on the back of a chair, his biceps tight. “The more time that passes...” Rock went over, elbowing him in the back, his way of asking if the Beta was okay. “I’m good,” Bane grated, his canines sliding over his chin. “I had to defer to Sixten Kovac.”
Ryan didn’t hide his astonishment. “In what way?”
“Blythe,” he answered, his massive hands clenching on the metal. “When we find my…her, she goes straight to Sixten’s lair as his mate. Jax, one of her half-brothers, arrived from Scotland and started hunting immediately. He’s going at it nonstop. I had to break it to him that he has no rights to protect her.”
Werewolves prioritized and cherished females like no others. So something of this nature was a kick in the gut. “We sort of knew that was happening, right?” Ryan said and stepped to a side table, pouring a homemade agave brew from a simple decanter, the only thing known to get a werewolf truly wasted. Considering Bane’s power had held the miasma most of the day, he thought a drink might relax the Beta.
He held the heavy tumbler in front of Bane, twisting his wrist. Usually, Ryan did not enjoy thinking about Blythe with Sixten, and at the moment; he didn’t like thinking about her without Sixten. One of his best friends and the only love he’s ever known remained at the mercy of monsters; that is, if she were even alive. “So no one has come up with anything on Blythe’s hunt?”
“No. Your Coven has been searching. Our Pack has been searching.” He shrugged those heavy shoulders, taking a generous swallow. “Vampire, will you be able to open Six Feet Under tonight?”
“It’ll be open. I know Blythe’s scent…her blood,” he answered, hitching his hip against the table, remembering the plan Rock discussed with him earlier.
“As do I,” Rock put in, speaking through clenched teeth. “Tonight, if anything walks through the club’s doors smelling of her, I’m on it.”
“You remember the signal Rock taught you?” Bane’s voice sounded hoarse, gravelly.
“Might I remind you that I’m a vampire?” Ryan gave him a disbelieving look. “Why would I forget a damned signal?”
Bane finished his drink and shot the same look back at Ryan. “Might I remind you that you nearly ate dirt on a permanent basis? And Rock had to drag your ass to safety.” He cocked his head. “Speaking of which, you still look like hell.”
“He just fed,” cautioned Rock, hooking a chair with his foot and settling onto it. Bane’s gaze flicked at Rock and back to Ryan.
“Not from him,” Ryan said before Bane got any bright ideas. Rock raised his eyes to Ryan; a flicker of grey swirled behind the periwinkle. A dangerous Beast stalked inside, it watched for something, possibly waiting. In return, Ryan half-closed his eyes and shook his head no.
“If a werewolf offered, you’d be stupid to pass it up, vampire,” Bane continued in a weary tone, narrowing a shiny gaze on Ryan and sensing something tense going on between them. “I know vam
ps mostly need human blood when they’re not mated, but immortal blood can kick-start immortal bodies, just ask Dru. He feeds from our mate Renee, but Arian and I lend a vein frequently. It’s not a big deal anymore, and considering you and Rock are tight,” he let it hang out there a second before he reminded Ryan, “we need every available male, who we can trust, up and running tonight.”
“I’ll be up and running by nightfall.”
Bane turned back to Rock. “Jude is glued on Tatum, ordered to stay with her in Miami. As of this moment, your attention is exclusively on this matter. Blythe’s return is the pinnacle. Of course, our other females, especially the unmated, need extra coverage. I’m expecting more Scottish werewolves from Ciaran’s Pack by morning.”
“Understood, Beta.”
Ryan pulled out his phone, pulling up an app that displayed the bar’s schedule. “By your decree, I’ve taken your female Were from her shift, but we’ll still have human females working the floor. Everyone expects eye candy there for all tastes. We go all-male and suspicions will rise, so I want extra guards on my humans.”
“No fucking way will there be any humans there.” Bane shook his head.
“Alternatives?” Ryan pocketed his phone.
“Get some of your combat trained females down there,” said Rock. “We all know your Coven has them.”
“You werewolves should seriously consider training your females.”
“We’re down to so very few,” Bane retorted. “Why would we train them to risk their precious lives when we need them for our race’s very survival?”
“A logical argument and I get it. But they still need to defend themselves.”
Rock laughed heartily. “Ah, you have never seen a female werewolf in full transformation during her heat, have you?”
Ryan shrugged. “Can’t say that I have.”
“Totally savage.”
“Ah, the ones you like to fuck.” Ryan laughed along with them. “Everyone says you like to chain, fang, and bang.”
