by Ainsley Cole
“Yes, you said so on the message.” Rhayden said and Othello cleared his throat, making the pale vampire stop, his gaze moving to the table—curtailed.
“Go on Marlene.” Othello said, reaching out and patting her hand.
Her gaze moved to the men in front of her, seeing their eyes turn copper with the old Lord touching her and she frowned, taking her hand away. Not because she wanted to be rude, but she wanted to placate the vampires in front of her; let them know she didn’t like him touching her either.
They were extremely protective of her.
“But what I didn’t say was what he told me. I asked if he was another brother. He said no, not a brother, but a—”
“A what?” Absinthe asked.
“I didn’t let him finish. He would have killed me. So, I stuck a knife up under his chin and through his brain.”
Absinthe rolled his eyes and Rhayden chuckled. “That’s my girl.”
Her face heated, flicking a gaze to Othello, before she remembered what she was saying, “But I did take photos.”
She dug her phone out of her pocket and slid it across the table to the brothers. Rhayden picked it up, opening the home screen and he tapped on it, while Absinthe leaned over, looking at the screen.
“Oh my God.” Abe whispered.
“Well, that’s what I thought, when she showed me earlier,” Othello replied, and Marley looked at them, frowning. “That is why you two are here.”
“What?”
“I thought he was dead.” Rhayden said, looking at the photo again.
“Who?”
“It can’t be. This is impossible.”
“Hey!” Marley slammed her fist down onto the table, making Rhayden and Absinthe jump, their gazes shifting to her. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Language Marley.” Absinthe warned, and she flipped him off, turning her head to Othello.
“Who is it? Why does it seem like I killed a ghost?”
“Because you did,” Rhayden said, standing up, walking to the shelf and he pulled out a large tome. Walking back to the table, he dropped it in front of Marley, sending dust flying. She coughed and shot a glaring look at her pale lover as he grinned at her, making her blood heat. “This tome is full of our elders—past, present and their bloodlines. Direct descendants. This is the last edition; the newest one is in production.”
He opened the book, flipping the old paper and she leaned in, looking at the drawings and she slammed her hand out, stopping his movements and his pale gaze lifted to her, “Who’s that?”
“Marley.”
“Who is it?” she asked Rhayden, ignoring Absinthe.
Rhayden moved his hand, flipping to the page and she leaned in, taking in the picture, “It’s Johann.”
He looked younger in the picture than he’d been when they’d spoken to her two weeks prior and she let her hand off the page, letting Rhayden flip to the next one.
He turned the book, shoving it toward her and she frowned, seeing the concern in his eyes.
Looking down at the picture, she furrowed her eyebrows, the features of him looked familiar, and she screwed her nose up, “He looks like—Hang on.”
Marley reached out and grabbed her phone, scrolling through the pics until she found one of the vampires she’d killed. She held it to the book, looking between photos. “It’s-It’s him. The one in the alley.”
“It might not be.” Absinthe mused, pulling the book toward him and she looked at him with contempt.
“I’m not fucking stupid Absinthe; I know it’s him. It’s the tattoo on his neck,” She said, turning the phone and she stood, putting it next to the picture of the man. “See, there.”
Rhayden leaned in, looking at it, “She’s right you know.”
“You shut it,” Absinthe said, looking at her and he pushed her phone away, closing the book in a huff. “It can’t be him.”
“And why not?”
“Because Marlene, Absinthe killed him almost two hundred years ago.” Othello replied. He had been silent in the whole exchange and she turned her head to the Lord, frowning, trying to determine if the old man had rocks in his head.
“What?”
“I killed him. He was slaughtering his own Mated, ruining his blood-line. My father asked me to talk to him, ask him why he was doing it. I did. He turned on me and I almost didn’t make it through.”
“The scars on your chest? They’re from him?” Marley asked. She had remembered them, how soft they were under her touch, the silvery lines, and she wondered why they hadn’t healed. “Why do you still have them?”
Absinthe lifted his hand to his chest, his fingers running over the scars through his shirt as he looked at her.
“Because he used silver knives, when he attacked me. My father and Othello got there just in time to heal me, but it didn’t take away the scars.”
“And you killed him?”
“Broke his neck, then left him to burn,” Othello said, “We left his carcass in his Manor and burnt it to the ground.”
“Well, obviously you didn’t burn him. He was out there, killing people.” she blinked. “Othello—I mean Lord Othello.”
He raised an eyebrow at her slip of tongue, and she flushed, “How many Mated have died, since I killed him?”
“I would not be able to tell you. I would have to speak to the other Coven Leaders. Absinthe? Have any of your Mated been slaughtered?”
Her gaze turned to her dark-haired lover and he looked at her, “No, not since he was killed.”
She grinned, turning her head back to Othello, “I killed the last Mated Killer.”
She heard Rhayden chuckle at her enthusiasm, but she knew, with Othello’s look, it wouldn’t be that simple, “That may be so Marlene. And if it’s right, then you have done a good job. But Mathias still wants your head for killing one of his Senior Coven members, when you were not allowed to.”
“This is bullshit!” she yelled, slamming her hand on the table and she glared at the older vampire, seeing the amusement in his gaze. “Mathias can go suck a dead-man’s dick! I am not going to curtail to his fucking grandiose plans of killing me. I quite like being alive thank you very much.”
Rhayden gaffed at her words and Absinthe shook his head, putting it in his hands as she waited for Othello’s outburst.
Surely, he would spit it with her? A human mouthing off at him like she was but he said nothing, instead, leaning back in his chair, smiling.
“I can see why you like her so much,” Othello said to Rhayden and Absinthe. “Tell me, is she this fiery in bed?”
Marley blinked, her face heating as her gaze met Absinthe’s, “You have no idea…”
“Hmm, might have to invest in a human toy myself,” Othello chuckled, as he stood and both Absinthe and Rhayden stood. Marley didn’t, crossing her arms over her chest, looking up at the Lord of the vampires. “Make sure she doesn’t leave either of your sight. I put her into your custody. The room she was in was not adequate and I will make sure Mathias knows that is not how you treat an employee of someone else’s Coven.”
“And the trial?” Marley asked as he turned to leave. “What of that?”
Othello smiled again, his teeth bright against his thin skin as he looked down at her, “Let me gather better evidence and I will speak to you about it tomorrow night. For now, I need to get ready to hibernate and so do your lovers.”
He left the room, the doors closing behind him, and Marley looked over to the Raynes brothers. Their gazes were on her, fading to liquid silver.
Her body heated, stomach roiling and she stood, walking around the table, until she was standing in front of them.
“I need a hot shower. Who wants to join me?”
****
Rhayden’s hands were on her, grazing over sensitive flesh, making her skin tingle. Marley tipped her head back as his lips trailed up her neck, nipping at her skin with his fangs, drawing tiny drops of blood, “Mars.”
She wrapped her arms aroun
d his neck, letting him plunder her mouth with his tongue. His hands were hard on her bare hips and she threaded her hands through his hair, holding him to her. Rhayden pulled away, looking at her and her heart hammered at the silver which met her.
“You know he’s in the other room—”
“So?” He said, kissing along her jaw.
“You’re going to fuck me, with your brother in the next room?”
“Yep,” Rhayden turned her around, pushing her against the cold tiles, bringing her hips back, guiding himself into her and she moaned. Rhayden’s grip tightened on her skin and he started to pump against her, his movements slow at first, but soon gained in frenzy.
A moan tumbled from her lips and Rhayden’s hand moved.
Coming up, he covered her mouth as he drew her bare back against his chest hard, “Shhh Mars, Abe might be in the next room, but I don’t want him to hear you cum, that’s my treat—”
His hand covered her mouth, his other arm encircling her waist, Rhayden started to move faster. His grunts buried against her shoulder, her moans muffled by his strong hand. He gently sank his fangs into her shoulder, taking her blood and it heightened her orgasm. She screamed against his hand as she came; loud and hard.
Rhayden followed, his moans against her back almost whimpered as he drew on her blood. He slowly let her go, taking his fangs out of shoulder, sealing the cuts with his saliva, and turned her to him, his hands on either side of her head, leaning over her.
“Nice shade Rhayden.” She said, her fingers going to his lips, her blood still bright on it and he smiled. Lowering his gaze as she wiped it from his mouth, he gripped her hand, putting her fingers in his mouth and sucked the blood from them.
“You do taste good.”
“And you are a jock.”
“Who got the cheerleader.” He grinned, and she rolled her eyes.
“I am anything but a cheerleader.” She said, picking up the soap, running it over his body, smoothing it over the lines of his pecs, over his nipples and he looked at her.
“You’re close enough Mars. Everyone wants you. Hell, you even got old Othello thinking of getting a human for a pet.”
“I am not a pet,” She said, turning from him and she stepped out of the shower, grabbing a robe. Wrapping it around her, she stomped out of the room. Absinthe lay on the bed, his eyes closed, face stony and she frowned. Walking over to him, she flopped down beside him, curling against him. “Your brother is an ass.”
“And you’re still wet.” Abe said, looking down at her.
“You’re an ass too,” She said, rolling from him and he chuckled, grabbing her. Bringing her back into his embrace, Rhayden walked out of the bathroom. Hair still damp, but tousled and she looked at him, seeing the bulge under his towel. “Go put some clothes on Rhayden.”
“Sure, used and abused again.” He grinned, and she rolled her eyes, throwing a pillow at him. He ducked back into the bathroom and she sighed, looking back up at Absinthe.
“Tell me everything is going to be okay Abe.”
He looked down at her, frowning, “You know I can’t do that Marley.”
“Then lie to me.” She whispered, and he closed his eyes.
“I have never lied to you and I don’t want to start lying either. You mean too much to me, to lie to you.”
“Fine,” She replied, and her gaze went back to Rhayden. He had come out of the bathroom, his clothes swapped for pajamas and he yawned, crossing to the window and drew the blinds, instantly blacking out the room. “Guys?”
“It’s ok, we’re here.” Abe whispered, holding her tighter and the bed behind her depressed as Rhayden snuggled up behind her, his arm snaking around her waist.
“We won’t let anything happen to you Mars…”
She smiled, her mind almost at ease and as she felt their bodies slacken into Hibernation, she slowly drifted to sleep, her world safe—for now.
Six
Something woke Marley—
The sun was still up, she could tell, because Rhayden and Absinthe were still asleep. Turning her head, a sliver of sunlight was just visible between the curtains. Her hearing intensified, trying to pick out what might have woken her in a house full of sleeping vampires.
She maneuvered her frame from under both Absinthe and Rhayden and slipped out of their embrace. Picking up her clothes, she slipped them on, dropping the robe to the floor. Moving through the blackened room, she found the door and opened it. Walking out into the hallway, she gingerly made her way through the mansion.
It was eerily silent, and Marley didn’t like it. Not when every single fiber in her body told her, she was in danger. She had moved about the mansion before, confident, safe—now her skin crawled, as if dozens of pairs of eyes were on her.
Maybe it was because of the trial, getting up this early, before the vampires—the thought that she could run and get away.
No. It had to be something else.
Walking to the front doors, she opened them, stepping out into the early evening. It would be no later than 5 pm, the sky had just started to darken, bringing on the night.
Her trial would start soon. The vampires in this mansion would wake and her fate would be sealed with their decision.
The guard booth at the end of the driveway stood out.
Lit from inside by the automatic lighting. Putting her hand up, she waved to Uther, the only other human allowed on the property—
Bright blood sprayed the booth window and Marley screamed, hand coming to her mouth.
The door of the booth opened, and a huge, hunkering creature stepped out; claws distended. It turned toward the mansion, before tipping back its head—and howled.
“Oh God!” Marley spun. More Lycan joined the first in its howling and she ran back inside, slamming the door closed. Raced through the mansion, her bare feet thudded on the wood and carpet, as she headed for the armory.
The door was locked, and Marley’s hands fumbled for the keypad. Typing in the numbers she remembered from the safe-house in Vegas, she hoped they were the same.
11 05 1993
The keypad beeped, lighting red.
UNATHORIZED ACCESS
“God damn it!” she hit the panel, her mind working overtime. Punching in a number she had seen on a plaque in the Library, 17 11 1717, she bit her lip, hoping—
The door popped open with a hiss, “Yes!”
Quickly scrambling inside, she pulled shotguns and bullets from the walls, knives, anything she thought would be needed to keep the Lycans at bay.
She had to protect not only Absinthe and Rhayden, but Othello as well—she couldn’t give a damn about the others.
Shoving spare bullets into her pockets, she spun at the sound of breaking glass. The mansion’s alarm screeched through the air, her ears ringing.
Grimacing, she knew she would be on her own for a little longer—even with the almost deafening sound, the vampires wouldn’t wake until they were ready.
Bringing the gun to her shoulder, Marley stepped out of the room, her attention on the hallways, the doors.
Any place which could hide a Lycan.
Movement to her left had her swinging the gun and she fired. The buck-shot silver ball bearings scattered, splintering the wood of the doorway; as the flash of fur took off.
She cocked the gun again, chambering another round and moved quickly, following it.
Where was it going?
It didn’t seem overly interested in her.
She frowned as she maneuvered toward the library, past its closed doors and saw the flash of fur as the Lycan turned the corner again, “Oh no—”
It was headed for Othello.
Marley lowered the gun, racing through the hallways, trying to catch hold of the Lycan before it reached the room which held the ancient vampire.
She rounded the corner, bringing the gun up to her shoulder again. Othello’s door was open, and Marley quickly went to it. Gently nudging it further, the Lycan was standing over the bed, hand r
aised, claws descended, ready to swipe across Othello’s throat.
“Hey! Fido!”
Its head turned, glaring at her and she unloaded the shotgun into its ribs. The squeal of the Lycan as the silver ball bearings thudded into its body made her wince.
Quickly dropping the casings out of the gun, she shoved two more in, unloading one as the Lycan turned, ready to attack her. The creature fell across Othello’s bed and she glared at it, “Stupid Mutt.”
She turned, leaving the dead Lycan lying where it was and walked back through the mansion. With the alarm so loud, she couldn’t hear what was happening. Quickly moving to the library, she opened the panel for the alarm and punched in the code, silencing it. Turning, she closed her eyes, trying to pinpoint other Lycan.
Thudding feet and she opened her eyes, lifting the shotgun as another flashed past her. Running to the door, she stepped out, in time to see it bust into the room where her lovers were sleeping, “No!!”
Scrambling to the door, she brought the gun up, unloading it at the Lycan as it stood on the end of the bed, ready to attack. It screamed, turning on her.
This one was bigger; bigger than the ones which had attacked her in Vegas. Bigger than the one she’d just killed in Othello’s room. She backed up, breaking open the gun and shoved more bullets into it, before snapping it closed.
She brought it up—
The Lycan gripped the end of the barrel, tipping its head to the side as she fired, the flash of the muzzle lighting up its features. The creature didn’t even acknowledge the shot, gripping the gun tighter and tore it out of her hands, flinging it to the side.
Marley turned and ran, fumbling with the knife in her waist—
The Lycan gripped her arm, spinning her back to it and whipped its hand across her face. Gashes opened across her cheek and she screamed, blood oozing from her wounds.
It picked her up by the neck, slamming her against the wall. She kicked out at it, trying to get it to let her go.
But even with a gunshot wound, its strength was phenomenal, and its fangs headed toward her neck—
