You Both (Vampire Assassin League Book 29)

by Jackie Ivie

Athlerod didn’t wait for an answer. He jumped out. And disappeared. Ethelstone let the sword drop to his feet in order to tighten his arm on his mate. He moved her around to his front.

  Touching her was incredible.

  He’d fought it because somehow he’d known what might happen. And with what power. All kinds of things in his body were altering. Renewed sensation was racing everywhere. It laced through his abdomen. Caught at his hips. Niggled at his buttocks...

  Ethelstone caught a breath as feeling slid around and hit his groin. Surprise mixing with all kinds of pleasurable tingles. It even mitigated the pain into a dull throb. His mate stirred. Her eyelids flickered, opened slightly, and then widened fully as she looked up at him. And by Odin! He couldn’t believe his luck. She had stunning eyes. The color of hammered silver. They were dark about the edges, light gray toward the center. They caught. Entrapped. He was instantly smitten. Enraptured. His newly awakened heart sent heavy beats through him so he could get the full measure of this.

  Ethelstone’s knees trembled with a final warning. Then, they folded. He slid to the floor, taking her with him. Landed with a jolt. A groan tore from him, despite his compressed lips. This was not good. She would think him the weakest of men. The most feeble. Defenseless. Pathetic. He knew she watched him. He could feel her gaze. Then he got to feel the heat of a blush as it blossomed up from his chest. But then Vaughn’s voice boomed through the cabin, redirecting her attention.

  “Holy shit! Talk about your déjà vu. I’m not going to get to pilot another of these babies if I continually trash them. Didn’t I tell you guys not to fight? You two are complete jackasses.”

  Ethelstone craned his neck to lean out past his mate’s head. They both watched as the pilot picked his way through the damage field, holding a large phone out as he walked.

  “And just who used the extinguisher? Did we have a fire, too? Holy crap again. Too bad we don’t have smart cell phones. I’d send video.”

  “Survivors, Vaughn. That’s what we want to know.”

  The pilot had his phone on speaker. The voice on the other end was young-sounding. Male. Easily tagged. Nigel Beethan. Ethelstone swallowed a groan again, this time for an entirely different reason. Vaughn answered.

  “Looks...like two. A twin and the woman.”

  “Which twin?”

  “I don’t know. Ethelstone, maybe?”

  He nodded.

  “Got confirmation. It’s Ethelstone.”

  “Where is Athlerod?”

  “Good question. Ethel? Where’s your brother?”

  By Loki! Everything was against him. Vaughn even used the most emasculating name on the planet to address him. Ethelstone felt his face fall. Then his shoulders. He cleared his throat before he answered in case it wavered.

  “He went to the ice cave. We will join him there. Once I have recuperated.”

  “Recuperated?”

  His mate turned back to him to whisper. Her breath touched his skin. All sorts of things happened and with alarming viciousness. His canines started tingling. His belly warmed. His loins got a full assault. His manhood responded. Rapidly. He grew hard. Long. Full. He tightened his thighs in an attempt to lift her from direct contact. He wasn’t wearing enough for this! And all she wore was a pair of skinny jeans. This was incredible. Extremely pleasurable. And completely ill-timed. Any pain associated with his wound muted until he could barely feel it.

  “Bad idea, my man.” Nigel answered from somewhere above them.

  “What?” Ethelstone tore his gaze away from hers. Experienced an instant chill but it was overwritten by another flush as he felt her watching him. Considering. Probably guessing.

  “You guys didn’t put any heat in your ice cave.”

  “Heat?” His brain wasn’t functioning. He was amazed his mouth managed to work.

  “You know, like a fireplace.”

  “Oh. Of course not. Heat melts ice.”

  “Right. And that there is your trouble.”

  “Trouble?” Ethelstone parroted the word since Nigel waited. He couldn’t think. He could only feel. Regenerate. Experience all kinds of nerve endings awakening. And somehow attempt to hide it.

  “Lack of heat tends to do bad things to humans. Especially at your latitude. You know...like, it tends to kill them.”

  He really couldn’t concentrate here. And his dick had a mind of its own. It wasn’t obeying anything he tried. He couldn’t remember anything this vivid. Every passing moment sent flashes of bliss through him. It was unbelievably enjoyable. And growing stronger every moment. By the god of sensual pleasure, Freyr! This mating thing was difficult to control. Anything he said was going to put a spotlight on it. But then his mate stepped into the breach, her voice business-like and clipped.

  “Okay. Who are you and what the hell is going on?” Stephanie asked.

  “You must be Miss Bowker. Hi there! Welcome to the league! I hope you’ll accept my abject apologies for the, um...flight.”

  Stephanie swiveled, her buttocks slid along the muscle above his knees. Ethelstone’s fangs responded worse. Lengthening. Sharpening. Athlerod had been completely wrong in his evaluation. Stephanie definitely had curves. Full. Ripe. Her hips right now felt like a swift trip to Valhalla. He sucked in a breath so quickly it iced his teeth. His fangs got a full dose, and that stung. He’d forgotten that sensation, too.

  She didn’t look totally immune, either. She sent a sidelong glance at him before looking quickly away. Her cheeks darkened slightly. Or his eyes were deceiving him. Her voice didn’t show any effects.

  “You have got to be joking,” she replied.

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Do you have any idea what I just went thorough?” Her voice rose.

  “Actually...yes. I have a very good idea. Look. I’ll sweeten my apology. I booked the Inferno Suite for you. Limo should arrive anytime. Vaughn? Don’t move. Daylight-thirty is imminent. We’re sending a replacement jet for you. And Ethelstone? Your brother has another assignment. You are not to contact him. Everybody got that?”

  “Thanks, man,” Vaughn answered.

  “I didn’t hear Ethelstone’s answer. Come on, buddy. You heard me, right? No going near your twin. Understand?”

  “Uh. Yeah.”

  He’d been right to hold off responding. The words warbled. Stephanie turned again to look him over. He didn’t dare meet her glance. He sucked in his abs and held them tight as his cock went to pleasure-pain status and just hovered there.

  “Good. And good-bye.”

  Vaughn snapped the phone shut and flung it toward the opposite wall where it smacked into something metallic, joining the destruction. And then he put his hands on his hips and looked over and down at them.

  “Well. There you have it. Questions?”

  “Yes. Tons.”

  Stephanie moved again, facing Vaughn as she answered. Sweet curves slid along Ethelstone’s thighs. Clamping down on this arousal was growing torturous. But incredibly sweet.

  No.

  Torturous.

  “Fire away, sweetheart. What you got?”

  “I’m not your sweetheart. And I’m just going to repeat myself. Who are you? And what the hell is going on?”

  “I’m Vaughn. VAL Pilot. And...I think it’s a good idea to defer the rest of your question to um. Yeah. Him. Ethelstone? You want to help me out here?”

  “Oh. Nice try, buddy.” Stephanie forestalled any answer.

  “What?”

  “What is wrong with everyone? The man took a horrific blow! Why is everybody so damned obtuse? I hope you have another phone because you need to order an ambulance. One with a stout gurney. And some very strong paramedics. This might be Iceland, but they’ve got to have hospitals up here!”

  The words came faster toward the end and her voice rose again. Those didn’t sound like good omens.

  “Hospitals?”

  “Why aren’t you moving? This guy needs a blood transfusion. Emergency trauma care! Surgery. Followed up by
weeks of rehabilitation. And that’s if they can reattach his arm.”

  “Stephanie.”

  Ethelstone croaked her name. His voice was lower than normal. A lot lower. It rumbled through what was left of the cabin, making several things rattle before quieting again.

  “What?”

  The word was acerbic. Sharp. She rotated again to face him. She looked about as angered as she’d sounded. He shoved the mass of blankets aside. Gripped a section of tunic where Athlerod had slashed it. Lifted it away from his skin.

  “Stop moving about like that. Are you nuts? You’re wounded.”

  He yanked on the leather with his good arm, ripped the tunic open further, and used a swatch of the blanket to rub at the blood coating him, making slashing strokes that didn’t diminish much of anything. His flesh had knitted, but was still red and puckered. She lifted stunned silver eyes to him.

  “What...happened to your injury?”

  Ethelstone swallowed in order to answer intelligibly. “I am a vampire.”

  “Oh, come on. You are not.”

  She sounded so certain! Her lips parted. And then she pulled backward slightly, tipped her head to one side, narrowed her eyes, and her eyebrows lowered.

  “I thought you knew.”

  “No. I don’t believe it. There is no such thing.”

  He gestured over at the pilot with his previously immobile arm. “Vaughn is a vampire, too.”

  “Oh, come on. He is not.”

  She said it almost exactly like before, only this time the tilt of her head went the other direction.

  “So is my brother.”

  “No.”

  “And so is the gentleman who was on the phone.”

  She shook her head. “Oh. That one is a complete and utter no.”

  “That was Nigel. He is a vampire, too.”

  “He sounded about sixteen.”

  Ethelstone nodded. “He looks it, too.”

  She regarded him for several long moments. He couldn’t take that amount of attention. Not now. Not here. And that’s when his body decided to completely betray him. His hips started pumping toward her. Without one bit of conscious volition. He had to stop it. Ethelstone yanked every muscle into submission. Harder. More. It felt like the cabin around him accompanied his tremor. It took every ounce of strength at his command.

  And she didn’t even seem to notice.

  “No,” she finally replied.

  He needed saving. By Odin! Thor! Freyr! He’d even accept the assist from Loki. Ethelstone silently sent anguished pleas. Begged for help. Right now!

  And something worked. They all heard the sounds of a large door opening. It echoed through the fuselage. She turned toward the sound. Ethelstone didn’t. He couldn’t seem to move his eyes from her. She grew more precious with every passing moment. The emotion loomed larger. As did his problem. His mind was besieged with images. Her lips crushed against his. Her long, shapely legs wrapped about him. Her breasts melded to his chest. Her woman place open. Wet. Ready. Everything on him demanded he toss her onto her back, rip his way through her jeans, and take her.

  Exactly like an Icelandic Viking on a raid.

  And what did he have for defense? He was wearing little more than a ripped and blood-stained thigh-length tunic. Wait. He had two, equally blood-stained blankets. Fur cuffs. Boots. He’d been premature. A gurney sounded like an excellent idea right about now. The purr of an engine resounded through the space outside the jet. Vaughn spoke up.

  “Well. Well. Will you listen to that? The kid really did send a car. And his timing is excellent. Ethelstone? You need a hand up, buddy? Maybe a swift kick?”

  “I need a cloak.”

  His voice was gruff. Deep. It snagged Stephanie’s attention. She straightened, and all he could do was remain locked in place. Trembling. He didn’t need to see Stephanie look him over. Her silver-hued eyes considering. Evaluating. He knew she looked him over. He could feel her regard.

  “Oh. Right. Blood-soaked clothing is not the best attire for an arrival to the Ice Hotel. That’s bound to attract attention. Even in Iceland. Here. I’ve got a nice, large, fur coat in the cockpit, because unlike some guys, I came prepared, and I didn’t trash my work area...”

  Vaughn’s voice faded. A few moments later, a length of fur dropped onto him. Thick. Concealing. Stephanie slid out from beneath it and he somehow resisted the urge to clamp onto her. He couldn’t move his eyes, however. He watched her just stand there. Dressed in figure-defining skinny jeans and thermal top. Rubbing at her arms. Shivering.

  “Stephanie needs a cloak, too.”

  “I only got one, man.”

  “Here.” Ethelstone hefted the fur toward her.

  “No. Please. I can’t take it.”

  “Oh, come on. This is getting complicated. Why don’t you just share it?” Vaughn asked.

  “Don’t ask. Just. Don’t.”

  Ethelstone managed to move to a squat, and then slowly stood. He stayed against the wall, hunched forward due to the lack of ceiling height, while leaning heavily against the structure as if he needed to. And then Vaughn had to go and state the obvious.

  “Oh. Shit, man. You’re mat—?”

  “Finish that and I’ll knock you into next week,” Ethelstone swiftly interrupted him.

  “Oh. Wow. That’s what this is all about? No wonder Athlerod went crazed. Man, oh man, am I ever late to the table. As well as completely blind. Deaf.”

  “You better start going mute,” Ethelstone lowered his voice even further.

  “Okay. I don’t get it.” Stephanie spoke. She looked from one to the other of them.

  “Put the cloak on her, and see her to the car,” Ethelstone ordered.

  “You’ll follow?”

  “I’m getting tired of being ignored, gentlemen,” Stephanie inserted.

  Ethelstone glanced toward her and then quickly away. She didn’t know what he was dealing with, while Vaughn might have been informed about what mating meant, but he was woefully ignorant. The pilot probably resembled Ethelstone from a few hours ago. Blissfully unaware. There was no succor. No release. No quarter. No help. The only thing that mattered was joining with his mate. Fully. Massively. Powerfully.

  Stephanie was extremely close to getting snatched up.

  And mauled.

  He needed his focus on something else. Anything. His glance touched on all kinds of things. Blinking lights. Uprooted chairs. The broken partition. The pile of items Athlerod had dumped atop a ripped section of carpeting.

  “You got it, big fellow, but I have to say it. You Icelanders are severe pains in the ass. Singularly. As well as together. You know that?”

  “Get moving, Vaughn or—”

  “I know. I’ll see next week a lot sooner. Heard it. Come on, sweetheart. Take the cloak.”

  “Call me that again, and I’m going to hit you,” Stephanie replied.

  “You, too? Is it something in the air? Everybody is looking for a fight? Here. Take the fur. You heard him.”

  “Jerk.”

  “Look. Lady. Thank you for flying VAL airlines. Allow me to see you to your ride. Bid you adieu. Good-bye. Farewell. And good riddance. I will be supremely glad to wash my hands of you and your Icelandic Viking dude.”

  “He isn’t my Icelandic Viking anything.”

  Vaughn laughed. “Right.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I’m mute, lady. Remember?”

  Stephanie made a frustrated sound, but her shadow moved as if donning the fur cloak. Ethelstone didn’t look toward her again. He was too busy mustering every bit of strength he possessed.

  He didn’t plan on following anyone anywhere.

  He was going to beat them there.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Well.

  If any of this was true, she’d happened upon the story of the decade! No. The revelation of the century! And she was actually living it. Who’d have guessed when her editor gave her that phone number that she’d discover s
omething this unbelievable? She’d thought the assignment was an executive brush-off. She’d even imagined his thought process as he’d downloaded the file to her:

  ‘I’ll just give the new kid a fantasy-fiction job. That should keep her occupied and out of my hair for a few weeks.’

  She’d been annoyed, but what had happened? She was onto something that would knock the reading public’s socks off...if it was true. That Ethelstone was pretty believable, even if what he said was off the chart on the believability spectrum. Was it actually possible that vampires were real? And, if so...that led to more possibilities. There really could be a covert organization called the Vampire Assassin League. It was overseen by a fellow named Akron Profit. She knew one thing for certain. He existed. She’d met him. Stephanie searched her memory. Dang. She couldn’t remember much. He’d worn a dark cape. He was big. He had mesmeric dark eyes. He’d cast some sort of hypnotic trance over her that lasted most of a flight from New York to Reykjavik, Iceland.

  Holy hell!

  How long was that?

  She’d give anything for her phone right now. Or a recording device. At the bare minimum, she needed a notepad and pen. This was going to get tricky. She’d have to rely on memory and recall and those were always subject to question.

  This story was going to make her career. It would definitely go viral. She’d be famous! She’d get her own segment...maybe her own show. Stephanie rubbed her hands together gleefully. The possibilities were endless. It was almost too much to consider.

  Akron Profit must be a vampire. Nothing else made sense. And if that was true, couldn’t it also mean he had an entire cadre of undead beings working for him? As assassins? And they didn’t just drain blood. They drained bank accounts. They killed for profit. It looked like there was a lot of it. They were powerful. Rich. Organized. Dangerous and fascinating. And one thing she truly hadn’t counted on.

  They were sexy as hell.

  Oh. Shit.

  She didn’t need to ask that question again. She knew the answer. She’d been in physical contact with one. Every moment had been a new experience. Something really weird happened. At a cellular level. There’d been some sort of electrical impulse involved. A lot of warmth. Stimulation. It was intangible but impossible to deny. She’d been turned on.