by Scott, Helen
"I can feel his call through the bond," Barclay said.
Now, wasn't that interesting? I supposed it made sense. A druid and a shifter were both oriented to the earth and nature, while the walkers were, well, walkers. I hadn't expected him to feel anything though, that was definitely new, and I figured it had to be something to do with now having our Sixth and being an Alpha Brotherhood. Marcella was in our blood, one and all.
When Marcella gasped a few moments later, I didn't know if she'd just finally decided to come back or if she'd heard my call, either way I was happy to see her eyes blinking open. The green-blue orbs were more beautiful than I'd ever seen before, and when a flash of silver passed over them, I knew that whatever she'd been up to, had taken a toll on her energy levels.
My eyes darted to Keir and Rav, both of whom were waking as well. They could stay asleep, I didn't mind that, just so long as their muscle spasms stopped, as well as the drooling, which they were both now wiping from their faces while looking very confused.
"What the hell just happened?" Darius demanded once they were all sitting in a relatively upright position and not looking quite so ill. His accusatory gaze landed firmly on Keiran, and I watched as Marcella's figurative hackles rose.
"I happened. It was an experiment, one that I'm happy to say was successful. I found your missing squire. She's not exactly in a good way, so I suggest we hurry," my little spitfire said as she pushed to her feet. When she swayed I was standing up with her, holding my wrist in front of her face. Happily, the woman didn't need much coaxing, not so happily, I've never had a boner so fast in my whole life. It was a head rush of a different kind.
Her fangs were deep in my wrist and she was drinking me down like I was a chocolate fountain or something. My free arm wrapped possessively around her waist as I pulled us both back to the couch. It was only a step or two, and she didn't even seem to notice as she satiated her hunger.
I felt you calling to me. Her voice was in my head. In my head, like a fucking telepath or something.
I tried not to visibly react, but I felt like I failed, at least to Darius's watchful eyes. He looked none too happy that I was the one feeding his mate, but dammit, I wanted a deeper connection with her.
You guided me home, thank you. Just so you know, I need you too. I don't ever want you to think otherwise. Marcella's voice sounded again.
I never could. I know you need me just as much as I need you, but now Darius is here… it’s stupid, I know, but I've been feeling a little left out. It was hard as hell to admit that, and I didn't even know if she could hear my thoughts, but I figured it was worth a shot.
Soon. I promise, she said before she withdrew her fangs. The sight of my blood dripping down her chin almost made me come in my pants, especially since she was giving me bedroom eyes at the same time. I couldn't help but think of my seed dripping down her chin after she gave me one hell of a blowjob. And then I thought about mosquitoes and snakes and anything else that wasn't sexy. Maker, this woman gave me a hard on like no other.
When she turned away from me but stayed sitting on my lap, I buried my face in her hair, taking in her scent. The woman practically smelled of sex, blood, and wine. It was enough to make my own mouth water and fangs descend.
"Care to enlighten us on where the squire is?" Darius said with a growl.
"Vegas. She's high as balls and partying like it's her last night on earth." Marcella's voice was one of cold fact, not judgment, which I appreciated. It was hard for our different social classes to understand the others sometimes, but I liked to think that people like Marcella, my brothers, and myself were more open-minded about things, as we had been through the ringer ourselves. Who knows what this woman was going through. I, for one, certainly wasn't going to judge her without cause.
"We should get on the road then," I suggested, as I looked toward my brothers. "Let's go see what we can find in Vegas."
16
Darius
It wasn’t in me to covet.
Vampires were possessive creatures by nature, but me? I’d never allowed myself to believe anyone was mine. We lived supernatural lengths of time, but loss could still hit us. We could die, we could even be ravaged by the pox—the one disease we weren’t resistant to, although it was unlike the illness that hit the humans—and the three combined to create a grieving period that could span millennia.
I’d never been foolish enough to fall for it. To allow myself to want someone enough to worry how I’d fare after they passed.
But Marcella?
It was too late.
The minute I saw her nuzzling into Gideon like a cat curling into a ball on its owner’s lap, I felt it.
The need and the want and the craving unfurled inside me like a twisted rosebud that blossomed with more thorns than petals.
There was danger here, I knew that. Sweet, sweet danger.
The few males I knew who’d mated their pursang females had warned me thus.
The females were pretty, oh so pretty, but they were deadly.
They came with pricks of their own, and considering Marcella’s box of magic tricks that appeared to be without end, I knew I was right to fear what she could do.
But sweet Maker, the sting that would come with each lash of her tongue as she rebuked me would be worth it.
The brothers were setting up for the drive to Vegas, and though it displeased me to travel in a truck, with our numbers, we had no choice but to opt for the minivan selection. Marcella wasn’t about to leave her other males without an argument, and the men weren’t going to let me drive her in my Aston Martin without some outrage either.
I hated being the odd one out. Especially among those who weren’t my betters, but Marcella was a devastating equalizer. It would take a long while for her to curl into me as she had Gideon.
I left the others to it, intent on watching her as she brushed out her hair in the vanity. After her little sojourn to wherever the hell she’d taken the two walkers, a journey that had given us Elizabeth’s apparent location, she’d had more static shock on her than was good for her. Her hair had been standing on end like she’d pushed her finger into a socket. I’d have smiled if I hadn’t been inches away from shitting myself.
“I know you’re there.”
“I should hope so, otherwise we’d have to work on your training,” I told her calmly.
“Did you watch me shower?”
I looked at her, caught her gaze in the mirror, and slowly nodded. She didn’t appear outraged, didn’t even move all that much. The towel tucked around her breasts was knotted in that way only females seemed to be able to achieve. If I tucked a towel around my hips, it invariably ended up on the floor. But hers, unfortunately, appeared to be stuck in place.
“That’s an invasion of privacy,” she chided, but again, there was no heat in her tone.
“I’m good at invading,” was all I said, and though it was true, I did intend for it to make her smile. It worked.
“I suppose that came in handy when you were fighting the Visigoths.”
I cocked a brow at her. “You know your history.”
“Some. I had a lot of time to read.” She turned around and faced me, rather than the vanity. The upper curve of her thigh was visible thanks to the slit of the towel parting, and sweet Maker, my mouth grew wet and my cock hardened at the innocent exposure.
I’d never wanted anything more in my entire life.
And I’d known this chit for less than a week.
What would she do to me after a hundred weeks? A hundred years?
It was both a terrifying and delicious prospect. Almost like when a beautiful woman grabbed you by the balls to stop you from climaxing. She had your manhood in the palm of her hands—a threat. But she was teasing you, enticing you towards greater pleasure—the reward.
Washed and scrubbed like she was, she looked younger than her years, and yet that made sense. To humans, I looked like I was in my mid thirties. The brothers all seemed to be in their
late twenties. Why wouldn’t Marcella look youthful?
“You feel it too, don’t you?”
The question disturbed my perusal of her shapely form. I could see strong muscles in her arms and thighs, but they were rounded out by soft curves that had me wanting to plow her.
“Feel what?” I inquired, folding my arms across my chest as I settled in.
“The link.”
I snorted. “Of course.”
“It’s different than the other’s.” A small frown puckered her brow. “I know I said that earlier by the pool, but…”
“It’s a pursang’s connection,” I informed her gently, and because I could sense how this discomforted her, I decided not to gloat. The males were important to her, and considering what she could do with them, I knew the Maker had put me, her, in this untenable situation for a reason.
The pursangs weren’t inviolate. We weren’t invulnerable. Our council was corrupt, the very leaders of our world were more interested in their own material gain. We had enemies and we were always minutes away from the next war. That Marcella’s talents had such span? It told me change was coming.
There was a reason the Maker had placed her with the Brotherhood he had, and throwing me into the mix? All of a sudden, this Brotherhood’s power levels surged past that of an Alpha Brotherhood, and went to a whole other rank.
Marcella was the Maximus Enforcer’s mate.
That meant she’d attend council functions with me. Would have a say in our governing. Her influence had suddenly morphed from that of slave at a master’s feet, to the master wielding the whip.
“I didn’t realize until just now.”
I tilted my head to the side, hurting for the lost sound in her voice. She’d seemed okay after she’d supped from Gideon. “What happened?”
“I used Keiran’s dreamscape to find the girl, then used Raven’s powers to jump into her mind.” Even as my breath caught at the scenario she just described—a scenario that I’d never thought was possible before—she carried on, “I used your strength and marker to find her. I saw your aura.”
I straightened, taken aback by her words, but not wanting to frighten her. “What of it?”
“Purple and black.” She closed her eyes, and she seemed to sag against the vanity. “Like my colors.”
Confused, I asked, “What do you mean?”
“Raven was red, Keiran blue. You and I, we were the same colors.”
“We are one, inamorata,” I explained calmly, my heart racing as the implications of what she’d done hit me. This level of power was unheard of now. Not since the Dark Ages had I heard of someone seeing auras, discerning colors.
It was as unique as my Sight. And, sweet Maker, the more I thought on it, the more I saw how entwined we were. All seven of us.
“I am theirs too,” she whispered, ducking her head.
“Yes. You are.”
That surprised her. Perhaps she hadn’t thought I’d agree, or had thought I’d fight her. But there was nothing to fight.
This was indubitable proof.
“Y-You—”
I held up a hand. “You are their Sixth. Before I came along, you would have had your own color. I’d assume either black or purple, and now that I’m here, we’ve merged into the two.” I rubbed my chin. “Not the most inspiring of auras, I fear. Purple and black—the colors for death and mourning.”
“Purple means royalty, doesn’t it? Didn’t Queen Victoria wear it after Prince Albert’s death?”
My lips curved. “I had the misfortune of being in her Court, and can state, categorically, she never divested herself of black and white even though purple was traditionally a half-mourning color.”
Interest sparked and flared in those beautiful green eyes of hers. “You knew her? What was she like?”
“A conversation for another time,” I demurred, pleased that I’d said something to soften those hard edges that had appeared when she’d feared I’d argue over her connection with the males. “You are an unusual one, aren’t you?”
She dipped her chin. “I never used to be.”
“You flew under the radar. Had your parents been in anyway normal…” Anger swirled inside me at the years of lost potential. She should have had special training, and all because her sires were fools.
My statement had her swallowing. “I wanted to see what Keiran had done to Winterborn. That’s why I did what I did.”
Again, another impossibility. My tongue felt too big in my mouth. “And what did you find?”
“I saw him. He’d created this kind of pit. It was circled with salt, and I didn’t have to ask Keir to figure out that the salt represented Winterborn’s essence. He’s close to dying.”
“Did you free him?”
She shook her head. “No.”
I had to laugh. “Bloodthirsty minx.”
“Perhaps. He deserved no pity,” she told me, unashamed, nor did she have reason to feel shame.
Had Winterborn been released from Keiran’s dream prison, there would have been questions that needed answering, but more than that, I was relieved to see how strong Marcella was. There were times, in our position, when we had to be merciless.
It ran hand in hand with the power our rank afforded.
And yes, it was our rank. Our power.
“There were demons around him, and it was like he was in hell.”
I snorted. “Winterborn is a Catholic?”
Her head tipped to the side. “I-I guess.”
“We don’t fear demons, ocelle. You know this.”
She bit her bottom lip. “Does it matter if he’s Catholic?”
“Considering his treatment of you, yes.” I pursed my lips. “I concur with Keiran. While you were away with the fairies, Gideon, Cade, and Barclay filled me in on the rest. I’d have done the same as Keiran were the roles reversed.”
No reply was forthcoming. She simply stared at me, blinking slowly, softly, before she murmured, “I wanted to know who my father was. That was why I wished to speak with him. It seemed like he’d be the one to know.”
“And you discerned the truth?” Not even weeks of research, of intense investigation, had heralded any answers on that score from my squires or me.
“I did. He said I was sired by Sylvester McCray.”
Tension swarmed inside me. “Indeed.” I fought hard to keep my voice level, but it didn’t appear to work.
“Keiran was afraid.”
I pursed my lips. “I can understand the walker’s fear.”
“Are you scared?”
“Honestly?”
She nodded. “I wish for only honesty between us.”
“No. I’m not scared. I’m fearful for you. If your father learns of your talents… We must keep them secret.”
“I wasn’t about to go advertising them on Facebook, Darius.” When she rolled her eyes at me, I couldn’t stop myself. I moved so fast I knew I was a blur. She didn’t yelp though. Didn’t show any signs of fear when I moved from the doorway to inches in front of her, in less time than it took her heart to beat once.
The second our bodies were pressed together, her eyes dilated. The visceral response had my cock hardening.
“You need my blood.”
It was a statement. Not a question.
I watched her swallow, watched a vulnerability appear in her eyes.
“I won’t work my way between your connection with the brothers.”
“I need them, Darius.”
It killed me, killed the beast inside me, but I understood now. What she was… I’d never be enough for her. She needed to be surrounded by a pack of her own. Not only would that keep her safe, it would make her impossible to destroy.
“I know you do. But for every drop of blood you take from them, you’ll need the same from me.”
She licked her lips. “Why?”
“It is the way of it.” I shrugged. “Male pursangs who are mated evolve to handle their female’s needs.”
“Why?”
she repeated.
“No blood but their mate’s should touch their lips, and females require more blood than males do.” I reached up and ran a finger over the curve of her mouth. She was dewy from the shower, damp and moist and so fucking delicious, I wanted to claim her on this very counter, and bind her to me here and now. “It’s the Maker’s way of creating dependency.”
“Why would he do a silly thing like that?”
I had to smile. “Because otherwise the females wouldn’t need the males.”
17
Marcella
The taste of Darius’s blood lingered in my mouth. Not even Starbucks or a McDonald’s burger softened its sharp flavor on my tongue.
The only consolation?
Watching Darius eat a Big Mac had been beyond hilarious. The disgust and pomp etched onto his handsome features had been, hands down, one of the funniest things I’d ever seen.
For a male who was, undoubtedly, accustomed to Michelin-starred dining, to say he hadn’t appreciated our quick meal was an understatement.
He hadn’t complained though. That came as a surprise. His disgust had been all visual, not a word of dissent had crossed his lips, and I was well aware that was because of our conversation.
Between my sharing my father’s name and what I’d done with Raven and Keiran, something had changed. I could see it in his eyes. He was no longer at war with my Brotherhood. There was no internal struggle. A strange veil of acceptance appeared to have washed over him, and I was relieved to see it. Relieved to know he concurred that my connection with the males was just as important as the one I shared with him—even though I had no idea what the hell it was I’d said to make him react this way.
After eating—Gid’s and Darius’s blood, as well as my three burgers and two helpings of fries—and regardless of the caffeine, I slept most of the eight-hour journey to Vegas.
Each time I awoke, disturbed by car horns or just to shift in my seat, I found I was using a different male as a bed. I’d drifted off with Raven at my side, and then the first time I’d woken up, Barclay. Cade and Keiran had all had a turn too, and as I slept, I knew I’d sensed their movements, had felt the ties that bound me to them growing tighter and tighter.
