Three to Get Ready

by Ivy, Alexandra

  He could barely breathe, yet managed to choke out a laugh.

  Feline power and stunning beauty hovered above him, and for several seconds he just gazed upon it, amazed, aroused and very proud. Then, as quick as the change had happened, it was pulled back. Something even more powerful and more beautiful taking its place.

  His mate.

  Nude, flushed, her hair wild, a sheen of sweat on her smooth skin.

  And eyes that were burning holes into his soul.

  “You are one sexy kitten,” he said, his arms going around her. “How’d it feel?”

  She grinned. “Oh my god, that was…”

  “Don’t say better than sex.”

  She laughed. “How about a pretty close second?”

  “Okay, I’m going to have to up my game.”

  With one quick, powerful movement, he rolled her to her back. Instantly, she wrapped her legs around him and pressed her smooth pussy against his shaft.

  She was already wet.

  Nael groaned. “Raph’s going to kill me.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “Another one of his League has fallen.” He dropped his head and kissed her. “Fallen in love.”

  She smiled, and when he kissed her again, she threaded her fingers in his hair and whispered his name. And beneath the brilliant sun, with the Cypress standing solid and majestic in the distance, and waves of the bayou lapping against the shoreline, Nael drove home.

  Thrusting deep, then pulling back, he had to force himself not to come apart. He was in love. A blissful motherfucking wreck. This was it. She was it. Everything he’d ever wanted—and never knew he needed. His mate in his arms, on the land he’d once called home. Goddess, so many questions loomed over him, about his life, his work and his family.

  But not his future.

  He took her mouth again, played with her tongue as his cock claimed her hot, wet pussy once again.

  His future was clear.

  It was Miranda.

  His sweet love.

  His mate.

  Epilogue

  Two weeks later

  Raph was standing on the edge of the Wildlands, watching as Nael and his new mate, Miranda, shifted into their human forms and headed toward the cottage that they’d constructed on the edge of the swamp. A cottage very near to Nael’s family—who had all been both shocked and delighted to find out he was alive, and had taken a mate.

  It was gratifying for Raph to see that the pair were settling in, their love and contentment in each other’s presence a visible glow around them. Still, he remained on edge.

  Heaving a sigh, he glanced toward the small red-haired Healer with lush curves and earthy beauty. Monique had just finished yet another physical of Miranda, and the Healer’s expression reflected Raph’s dark mood.

  “So?” he prompted when she remained stoically silent.

  “She’s as healthy as a—”

  “Don’t say horse,” he interrupted with a scowl.

  Monique allowed a wry smile to curve her lips. “As a natural-born Pantera,” she said.

  “I’m sensing a ‘but’.”

  “The echo inside her is even stronger now than it was when she first arrived.” The female shook her head. “It’s almost like it’s being amplified.”

  The knot of worry that was perpetually lodged in the pit of Raph’s stomach became even heavier.

  “Because of the mating?”

  She shook her head. “I have no idea.”

  “Do you have any theories? We have three assets from three different locations, all with the same echo.”

  Monique hesitated before speaking. Healers were scientists. They dealt in hard facts, not guesses and speculation.

  “My first thought was that it was a by-product of the Pantera blood that was injected into them, but I’ve tested several other humans who went through a similar transfusion without that particular side-effect,” she said.

  Raph thought of the list that they’d intercepted. “Could it be something that Benson did to them and them only?” he demanded. “Beyond the Pantera blood that was injected into them.”

  “Yes.” Monique lifted her hands. “I’m certain they were specifically engineered. I just don’t know why.”

  Raph considered this, his face tight with tension. “A beacon maybe?” he finally suggested.

  “For what?”

  “So Benson can keep track of his creations.” Raph shrugged. “They all had specific tasks to perform. Maybe he wanted to monitor their progress.”

  Monique looked grim. “Or monitor us.”

  He sent her a sharp frown. “What do you mean?”

  “Benson isn’t stupid. He knew if we located the assets that they would end up here.”

  “True, but the Wildlands aren’t exactly a secret anymore. There are easier ways to spy on us if he wanted,” he pointed out.

  A low growl rumbled in Monique’s throat. “There’s something going on. And it’s making me nuts.”

  “We’ll figure it out. We have to.”

  “Yeah, but will it be too late?”

  With a last glare at the cottages that framed the border of the Wildlands, Monique turned to stomp away, muttering curses under her breath.

  She bypassed the large male heading down the pathway, nearly knocking him to the side as she continued toward the nearby village.

  Xavier, the leader of the Geeks, was tall with broad shoulders and rippling muscles beneath his tight t-shirt and jeans. His skin was the rich darkness of mocha and dark hair was buzzed close to his skull. His eyes were a piercing blue and his features were sharply chiseled.

  He halted next to Raph with a lift of his brows. “What bug is up Monique’s ass?” he demanded.

  “Why don’t you go ask her?” Raph drawled.

  “Shit.” The big male paled at the mere suggestion. “Have you ever seen her with a scalpel in her hand?”

  Raph shook his head. “No, but I once saw her grab an alligator and drag it away from a cub playing too close to the bog. The gator was too stunned to fight back.”

  “I pity anyone, or anything, stupid enough to get in her way,” Xavier muttered.

  Raph had always hoped that Monique would find a mate humble enough to stand at her side, and yet strong enough to hold her when she was overwhelmed by her generous heart. A mate who would give her the cub she so desperately wanted.

  With a shake of his head, he pushed his Healer friend from his mind and concentrated on the male at his side. “What’s wrong?”

  Xavier’s brows arched another inch. “What makes you think something’s wrong? Maybe I’m here to savor the pleasure of your charming personality.”

  Raph snorted. The leader of the Geeks never came looking for him unless there was a disaster. Usually several disasters.

  “Fuck off,” he said, his voice laced with humor. “I’m busy.”

  “See?” Xavier batted his lashes. “Charming as hell.”

  “What’s wrong?” Raph pressed.

  Xavier’s teasing expression slowly hardened “Z is off the grid.”

  Raph grimaced. Z was…feral. No other word came to mind. He might be able to pass as human, but beneath that brittle shell was a cat who was as raw and primitive as the day they’d first climbed out of the swamp.

  Which meant sending him out on a mission had been as risky as hell.

  “When?” Raph demanded.

  “My last communication with him was three days ago.”

  Hmm. Not all that long. “Maybe he’s afraid of blowing his cover.”

  “I’ve set up a dozen back channels to ensure he can reach us without fear of getting caught,” Xavier snarled. “Hell, I created a phony pizza restaurant phone line. If he calls and orders a large pepperoni, it means he’s okay. If he orders a lame-ass veggie, I know to send in the troops.”

  Raph rolled eyes. Pantera didn’t understand the whole vegan thing. They were unapologetic carnivores.

  “Nice.”

  “The
point is, he should have checked in.”

  “Okay.” Raph lifted his hand to rub the tense muscles of his nape. They’d been tight and aching for the past five years. “I’ll track him down.”

  “I can go,” Xavier swiftly offered. “Or send one of the Hunters. You don’t have to do everything yourself, you know. A good leader knows how to delegate.”

  Raph was shaking his head before Xavier stopped speaking.

  “Not on this. I sent Z into danger. It’s my responsibility to bring him home in one piece.”

  The Geek heaved a resigned sigh. “You’re not going to listen to reason, are you?”

  “Do I ever?”

  Xavier lay his hand on Raph’s shoulder. “Don’t get yourself killed, my brother. I’m not sure we’d survive without you.”

  Coming Soon

  Excerpt from

  The Darkness Returns

  Guardian of Eternity – Book 13

  by Alexandra Ivy

  Chapter 1

  The sweeping mansion on the edge of Chicago was the perfect setting for an old-time movie star. Built behind a high fence and surrounded by a manicured lawn with a profusion of gardens, it possessed a faded, ageless beauty. Inside it had an abundance of marble, fluted columns and gilt that encroached into every nook and cranny. Including the toilets.

  But there was no aging human drifting through the thirty-odd rooms. Instead the place was filled with demons. Vampires, a pureblooded Were, fairies, and a few imps. Oh, and the Anasso, the King of the Vampires.

  The current Anasso, Styx, was a six foot six male with the stark Aztec features of his ancestors. His dark hair was pulled into a braid that was threaded with turquois medallions and hung down his back. His massive frame was covered in leather. And he rammed through the house like a bull in a china cabinet.

  Not that anyone was stupid enough to laugh when he busted a fragile knickknack. Or when one of the antique chairs collapsed beneath his weight.

  Everyone knew he’d chosen the elegant estate at the urging of his mate, Darcy. He would move heaven and earth to please his female. Plus, there was the healthy fear that he would happily lop off the head of anyone who insulted him with his bad-ass sword that was usually strapped across his back.

  Currently, Styx was in his private study, a room he’d managed to strip of most of the frou-frou nonsense, although there was no getting rid of the gilt. It infected the place like a plague. At least it had nice, sturdy furniture, along with shelves filled with rare books, manuscripts, and scrolls.

  He was standing behind his desk when the door was pushed open and male vampire strolled in.

  Unlike Styx, Viper’s long hair was the silver of moonlight and he preferred satin to leather. In fact, he dressed like a regency dandy with a frilly white shirt and long velvet coat. Still, anyone foolish enough to think he was anything less than lethal rarely lived long enough to regret their mistake.

  “You rang?” the male drawled as he strolled toward the center of the study.

  Styx and Viper had been through hell together. Quite literally. In the past few years they’d battled the Dark Lord, evil witches, and dragons. Which was why he was confident that his friend wasn’t going to be happy with what he had to tell him.

  “I wanted to let you know that I will be out of town for a few days,” Styx said.

  “Not another honeymoon?” Viper arched a brow. “You do know that eventually they’re just called vacations?” He tilted his head, pretending to consider his words. “Unless there’s an orgy involved.”

  “I have to go to Vegas.”

  “Ah.” Viper smiled. In the light from the chandelier his fangs glistened as white as snow. “Then there is an orgy involved.”

  Styx rolled his eyes. He could only wish that he was taking his mate to Vegas. Regardless of what his friend might think, there could never be too many honeymoons.

  “This is no vacation. I’ve requested a meeting with the Rebels.”

  Viper looked momentarily disappointed, as if he’d been hoping for the orgy scenario. Then his expression brightened.

  “Wait, are you going to kill them? I’ll go home and get my sword.”

  Styx held up a hand. The Rebels were a clan of vampires, led by Tarak, who’d led an insurrection against the previous Anasso after he’d taken command of the warring clans and consolidated them beneath his rule. At least, that’s the story he’d always been told after Tarak had disappeared. And the one he’d chosen to believe.

  Since he’d taken on the duty as king, he’d ignored the Rebels. As long as they minded their business and didn’t cause trouble, they could do what the hell they wanted. At least until last night.

  Then everything changed.

  “No, I’m taking Levet to them.”

  Levet was a three foot gargoyle who’d been a pain in the ass since Viper’s mate, Shay, had rescued him from a slave auction. The creature was intrusive, maddening, and his magic was dangerously unpredictable.

  Styx would have him stuffed and mounted on his wall if Darcy and the other females hadn’t been so attached to the ridiculous pest. And there were a few occasions when the gargoyle’s rare talents actually came in handy.

  “Ah. An even more devious plot,” his companion drawled. The only one who loathed Levet more than Styx was Viper. “You intend to torture them with that aggravating pest until they kill themselves. Very clever, oh wise and ancient master.”

  “Did you just call me ancient?”

  Viper shrugged. “Prehistoric?”

  Styx narrowed his gaze, the lights in the mansion flickering. All vampires had individual talents. Styx’s was a blast of energy that could cripple his opponent. Unfortunately, his power tended to interfere with modern technology when he was annoyed. “Careful.”

  Viper grinned, gloriously unrepentant. “Tell me why you’re taking a gargoyle to Vegas.”

  Styx folded his arms over his wide chest. “You remember that I told you I was cleaning out the caves?”

  “No, but to be fair, I rarely listen when you’re talking.”

  Styx made a sound of disgust. “Why do I bother to pretend I’m the Anasso? No one ever pay attention to me.”

  “Someone has to be king,” Viper informed him with a shrug. “Tell me about your cave.”

  There was more flickering of the lights and a small shudder beneath their feet, but Styx managed to maintain command of his temper. Nothing less than a miracle.

  “My Ravens have been using it as temporary housing, but I completed the barracks beneath the estate,” he said. The caves were several miles away and had been his home for decades before Darcy had insisted that his role as king demanded a more elegant setting. He hated to tell her that he far preferred the dark, dank, and sometimes moldy caverns. At least there he didn’t have to worry about breaking something. And he certainly hadn’t had to worry about unwanted guests dropping by. “With no one to guard the entrance, I needed to do something with my previous master’s belongings.”

  Viper’s pale features hardened with a sudden burst of fury. The original Anasso had kidnapped Viper’s mate and intended to use her blood to extend his own life.

  Needless to say, the two males hadn’t been BFFs.

  “Burn them,” the younger vampire snapped. “Or better yet, let me burn them.”

  “That’s what I intend to do with the majority of the stuff,” Styx said. In truth, his first impulse had been to pile everything in the middle of the largest cavern and toss a match on top. Unfortunately, he had taken time to sort through the boxes, trunks, and hidden stashes. Now it was too late to solve his problems with a bonfire. “There are a few sensitive items I need to deal with personally.”

  “Sensitive?”

  “We both know that my master could be ruthless even before he started going mad,” Styx said.

  “He was a jerk.”

  Styx’s lips twitched. His own relationship with the Anasso had been complicated. He’d admired the vampire’s determination to force the sava
ge vampires out of the dark ages and to unite them in a common cause of survival. But his methods had been…questionable.

  “As eloquent as always, Viper,” he said dryly.

  Viper waved a slender hand. “It’s a gift.”

  “Anyway, I found this hidden beneath his bed.” Styx leaned forward to grab the thick scroll off his desk. It was made of papyrus and rolled around a heavy bronze rod. It smelled of age and blood.

  “What’s that?” Viper demanded.

  “It’s a pact with a coven of witches.”

  “Witches?” Viper took a step backward, eyeing the scroll with horror. Magic was the one thing that all vampires feared. They had no ability to sense it, which meant they had no way to protect themselves. “No vampire would willingly deal with witches.”

  “It gets worse.”

  “What?”

  Styx felt something in the middle of his chest. A strange pressure. Darcy would no doubt tell him it was guilt, but he refused to accept such a stupid hypothesis. He was a predator. A king. A bad-ass warrior with a bad-ass sword that lopped off heads.

  Still, that pressure was annoying.

  “My master came to me and swore that Tarak had turned traitor and tried to kill him to claim the throne for himself. He said that he’d been forced to exile Tarak and that he wanted me to stand at his side when he proclaimed Tarak’s clansmen as Rebels.”

  “Did you?” Viper demanded.

  “Yes. I stood proudly beside the king as he made the proclamation that the Rebels were being driven from our territory.” The words were clipped. He hated admitting he was wrong. And he had been epically wrong. He should never have dismissed, Chiron, who had been Tarak’s most loyal servant. The young male had come to him and pleaded for his help after Tarak had disappeared. The younger male refused to believe that his master had been a traitor. “I refused to listen to the accusation that the king had captured Tarak.”

  “Shit.” Viper widened his dark eyes. It was one thing to kill a chief in battle. In the olden days, it happened with depressing frequency. But it was considered a cowardly human trick to take a fellow vampire as a hostage. And especially when that vampire was a member of one’s own clan. “It was true?”