by Zena Wynn
“Oh hell,” Rory said. “He’s a bloody vamp.”
By now they had the attention of everyone in the room. Even the musicians had stopped playing and gathered. There were angry mutters all around. Shay began to giggle. Oh, this was just too good. Their revered matchmaker was a vampire?
Conor smiled, and Shay swore she heard a few moans from some of the females in the room. “I’m more like his great-grandsire.”
“We all know Nik, being a vampire, is older than dirt. Just how old are you?” Shay asked.
“Shay!” Kiesha scolded.
“What! You know it’s true and that we’re wondering. Hell, who can tell how old any of these guys are? They’re all disgustingly healthy and age really well. I’ll bet even Alex is older than he looks. He’s what? Sixty?”
“No, I am not sixty,” Alex denied sharply.
“What about you?” She pointed at a male shifter in a police uniform standing nearby. “You look young. Bet you’re at least fifty.”
Rory popped Shay on her ass—hard. The sound echoed over hastily muffled laughter as she spun around to confront him. “You want your ass kicked, don’t you?”
“Quit instigating,” he demanded.
“You’re giving me orders?” she questioned, hands on her hips. “Do I look like a dog? Oh wait! That’s you.” She snapped her fingers. “Here, boy. Here, boy. That’s a good boy.”
Rory growled, and she swore she saw a hint of fang.
“Thanks, Shayla Nei, but I don’t need you deflecting attention away from me. I’m more than capable of protecting myself from these pups,” Conor stated.
Shay jumped. Damn, Conor read her like an open book. Actually she really was curious, but she had better manners than to ask someone their age. Her real purpose had been to protect him. She hadn’t liked either the growing crowd or the way the male shifters in the room glared at Conor when they’d realized what their idol was.
When she looked in Conor’s direction, he bared his teeth at her. Shay stared in horrified fascination as they began to change. There were fangs, but nothing like she’d ever seen. These chops would have done a saber-toothed tiger proud. She felt movement and noticed quite a few of the people backing away.
“What the hell is he?” someone asked.
Nikolai took up position in front of Conor. “He’s one of the ancients, a rare breed. Breeds like him are the reason for the vamp-shifter wars of old.”
Conor did something else, something that caused the noses of those gathered to twitch.
“He smells like a shifter,” someone muttered.
“How can that be? He’s a vamp!” someone else said.
Rory pushed Shay behind him. She tried to shove him out of the way, but he held her in place. Pinching him on his side, she scolded, “Quit that. Conor’s a friend.”
“I don’t know what the hell he is, but until I do, you’re staying where it’s safe.”
Shay sighed. “Again with the commands.”
“Why don’t we all sit down while Nikolai—or Conor—explains,” Alex suggested. The ones Shay identified as pack immediately complied.
Rory led Shay to the table, giving Conor a wide berth. Shay looked over her shoulder and winked at Conor. When she noticed Nikolai watching, she crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue at him. Nikolai was so dignified and formal in his old-world way, Shay couldn’t help but try to loosen him up. Shannon burst into laughter when she saw.
“What are you doing?” Rory asked.
“Nothing,” Shay responded innocently. “You know since he and Nik are family, that means Conor’s related to you as well, don’t you?”
“Shay…not another word.”
“I’m just saying…”
“Shay!”
She hummed the theme to The Addams Family under her breath, smiling wickedly when Rory’s chest rumbled with a low growl. He pulled out a chair, sat, and tumbled her into his lap, snarling when she tried to scoot into the empty seat next to him. Figuring she’d done enough for the moment, she subsided. Besides, he smelled really good. Shay turned her nose into his neck and inhaled, then licked the skin for good measure. Rory was instantly hard beneath her hip.
“Shayla, behave, please.” Rory sighed. “I’d like to hear this.”
She muttered under her breath but settled down. Now that her belly was full and bladder empty, another need was making itself known. She felt her sex clench. This Conor thing better not take too long.
When only Conor remained standing, he asked Alex, “What is it you would like to know?”
“How is it that you’re able to identify potential true mates?” Alex asked.
“And why do you smell like a wolf-shifter when you’re a vamp?” Rory added.
“He was talking to Alex, not you,” Shay couldn’t resist pointing out.
The man shushed her. Shay would have commented, but Kiesha was glaring at her. Okay, so this whole thing might be a little important. She could tangle with Rory later. Shay wrapped an arm around his neck and leaned against him, squirming as she tried to get comfortable. Sitting on Rory was like sitting on concrete. There was no give, no softness in his body. He shifted until she was held securely in his arms with her back against his chest, and she sighed. She wasn’t completely satisfied with her position, but this was as good as it got.
RORY EXAMINED CONOR as he stood before them. The man was an enigma, and he didn’t like puzzles. Even his wolf senses couldn’t detect exactly what Conor was. It didn’t help that his scent kept changing.
“My mother was a wolf-shifter, my father a vampire.”
Conor’s words caused an explosive reaction. Furious outbursts and heated denials filled the room. Even Shay quit her squirming, sat up, and took notice. A vamp and a shifter breeding? Impossible. His da had been well versed in the old ways and he’d never mentioned it being possible, but if it were…
His gaze shifted to rest on Shannon.
One voice rose above the rest. “Vampire and shifter matings are forbidden.”
“Aye and there’s a reason that is so,” Conor said quietly. “I, and others like myself, are the reason it was forbidden. Imagine a being with the combined strength of a vampire and shifter and none of the weaknesses.”
A weighty silence filled the room. That would be one damn powerful being, Rory thought.
Conor looked Rory in the eye. “You’ve the right of it. A damn powerful being indeed,” he said. “Such matings were rare. Offspring even rarer, but it happened. Like shifters, vampires mostly kept to their own kind. Then the plague hit, annihilating humans and decimating our old, females, and young. No species was exempt from the carnage.”
A gloom settled over the room. Even the lighting seemed to dim.
“Only the strong survived. Those that were left focused on surviving, rebuilding their clans, families…packs.” Conor’s gaze scanned the room. “Instead of pulling together, it was every man…every species for himself. What resources remained were fought over, many times to the death. The weak got weaker and the strong…more vicious.”
His focus turned inward. “Out of the darkness stepped a leader, a being like myself, both shifter and vampire. He managed to unite what was left of the packs, convincing them that the path to survival lay in banding together. Laws were written and obeyed or death was swift. ‘Protect the young and elderly, our women treasured above all.’”
Rory stirred at the familiar tenets. He wasn’t the only one.
“The wolf-shifters began to grow and thrive. Others noticed. Some of the other groups allied themselves and strengthened as well. Others remained apart, isolating themselves. Some died out…or were never heard from again.”
It was as quiet as the grave in the room. Barely a breath could be heard.
“Among the vampires a leader arose, only she wasn’t as…benevolent. For her it was all about power. Like Mangus, Fiala was half-vamp/half wolf-shifter. Unlike Mangus, she ruled by might. Those who opposed her were captured and killed. She wasn�
�t satisfied simply having vampires under her thumb. She wanted to rule the world.”
“Sounds like she had a screw loose,” Shayla murmured.
“There was a war,” Conor continued.
He heard Alex declare softly, “The vamp-shifter wars.”
Conor nodded abruptly, acknowledging Alex’s comment. “Many fled…hid. My parents among them. Fiala was finally overthrown, but by that time vamps and shifters alike had grown to fear and hate half-breeds such as myself. We were hunted. Matings between the two species were forbidden. My father died protecting us. By then I was old enough to hide what I was, mask my scent. My mother found a pack that took us in, and I was raised as a wolf.”
“That answers one question,” Rory stated. “What about the other?”
“I’m somewhat of a genealogist. As a near immortal, I’ve had plenty of time to indulge my habit,” Conor said.
Shayla snorted. “The man’s a freakin’ psychic, is what he is.”
“That too.” Conor smiled and his eyes…their color changed and began to swirl and glow. Rory clutched his mate to him, a hand pressed protectively against her stomach where his cub rested. He tensed, ready to move at a moment’s notice.
“Cool trick with the eyes. What else can you do?” Shay asked, sounding impressed, to Rory’s disgust.
Conor threw back his head and laughed, a deep belly chuckle that released the tension in the room. When he stopped, his eyes were back to normal. Or what Rory assumed was normal. With this guy, it was hard to say.
Shay’s teasing and Conor’s response must have been a signal for the rest of the room. Questions began to fly, people calling out over one another to be heard. Shay leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table, propping her chin on her hands as her head turned this way and that, trying to keep up with who was speaking. Rory’s gaze was immediately drawn to the long line of her spine, bared by the haltered gown she wore. Its V-shaped back stopped right above the swell of her ass, making him wonder what she wore underneath.
The thought of her naked beneath the silky material made him harder, tighter, and he suddenly realized it had been much too long since he’d buried himself within her satiny sheath. Losing all interest in the conversation swirling around them, he glided his hands up the sides of Shay’s body, feeling for underwear. Finding none, a small growl rumbled out of his chest and he prodded her with his raging, temporarily confined hard-on.
The perfume of Shay’s arousal filled the air in response, and a hard grin crossed his face. Firmly gripping her hips, he rubbed her against his bulging crotch and ran the point of his tongue up the middle of her back to just below her neck. Rory could feel her heat, smell her dampness.
Shay’s breath caught on a small moan, and she rocked on him in microcircles. He trailed his lips from her nape to her left shoulder, where one of his marks was prominently displayed. He tongued it, knowing it would spike her arousal. Rory slid his hand inside her dress and around to her stomach, and glided the flat of his palm up until his fingers rested just below her breasts.
“Rory.” She groaned his name. Straightening, she relaxed against his chest and tilted her head to the side, granting him unhindered access.
He murmured his approval and, as a reward, lifted his thumb to lightly stroke her beaded nipple.
Shay reached over her head and grabbed him by the hair, yanking his lips to hers. Their mouths fused together, the passion bounding back and forth between them, building higher and higher each round. Rory reached for Shay’s dress, intent on dragging it up her hips and burying himself in her from behind, when a sharp pain in his leg snapped him out of his lust-induced craze.
Rory swung around with a snarl.
Alex had his hands raised, a rueful expression on his face. “Sorry, but you’re putting on a show.”
“You kicked me!” Rory all but roared.
Alex shrugged. “Just following orders.” He pointed.
Rory’s gaze followed Alex’s finger to see his baby sister frowning at him. “Get a room already.” A quick glance showed him they had the attention of everyone.
“I believe that’s exactly what I’ll do.” In one smooth move, he rose to his feet with his mate in his arms. “It’s time I took my family home.”
“My things!” Shay exclaimed.
“Already in the truck,” he announced as he strode out of the room.
“Shay, call me,” were the last words he heard as the door closed behind them.
Rory’s stride rapidly ate up the distance to the truck.
Chapter Five
Rory stood at the stove, reminiscing about the night before as he cooked breakfast meat. What he thought would be a night of hard, pounding sex had fizzled into nothing, his mate having fallen asleep on the ride home. The man part of him demanded he wake her and finish what they’d started. The wolf overrode it, more concerned with the well-being of his mate and cub than his own physical needs.
Suddenly his nose twitched and his beast stirred. Above the savory aroma of sausage and bacon cooking, he smelled something even more tantalizing. His mate. His aroused mate. Breakfast would have to wait.
He turned off the stove and removed the frying pan from the burner. Turning in the direction where Shay’s scent was the strongest, his breath caught and his cock rose strong and proud.
She stood in the doorway in one of his dress shirts, unbuttoned down the middle. One hand played with the folds of her sex while the other toyed with a peaked, dusky brown nipple. His gaze reluctantly rose from that mouthwatering sight, and his eyes met the focused, golden-eyed stare she fixed on him. She didn’t say a word. None was necessary.
Rory prowled to her, stopping mere centimeters away so that his now throbbing erection brushed the back of her hand. He reached up and pushed the shirt off her shoulders. It fell to her elbows and hung there around her hips. She was completely bare underneath.
Leaning forward, he licked the mate mark on her right shoulder, then bit down hard, teeth sinking in, breaking the flesh. Blood flooded his mouth. One of Shay’s hands wrapped around his cock and squeezed. A growl rumbled from deep in her chest. An answering one sounded from his wolf. He felt the prick of tiny claws on his flesh, and the hint of violence in her touch excited him.
Rory released his hold on her shoulder and swirled his tongue over the wound, both to help it heal and because the taste of her blood turned him on. Prying her hand from his penis, he captured both of her wrists and held them over her head, pinning them alongside the wall. At the same time he covered her mouth with his. The kiss was raw, brutal.
Shay rose to her toes, arched her mound, and rubbed it against his cock. As her needy whimper filled the air, she tugged on her arms and, when he wouldn’t release them, snarled into his mouth. He nipped her lower lip, a warning, a reprimand. In turn she bared her teeth and lunged for his face, mouth wide open.
Rory jerked away, eyes narrowed. A rumble began in his chest before emerging as a full-throated growl. She was testing his beast, challenging his dominance over her. It was there in the way she matched him glare for glare. He growled again, and she growled back, teeth still bared, still fighting to reach him. Her eyes had gone pure wolf. She was strong but no match for him, and he could see that the knowledge infuriated her beast.
At that moment the kitchen door swung open and Caleb and MacDougal walked in. Caleb, smart wolf that he was, stopped in the doorway, sniffing the air before his apologetic gaze locked on them near the entrance to the dining room. MacDougal continued on into the house, headed toward the stove. “Smells like we’re in time for breakfast. Nice tits,” he commented, giving Shay’s body a thorough perusal.
“Maybe we should come back later,” Caleb said, retreating for the door, which still stood open, eyes glued to Shay’s half-naked body.
Shay’s stare traveled from Caleb to MacDougal, and her scent increased. A flood of moisture coated his cock where it rested between her legs along her slit. She dared to look at another male with desire in
his presence? When he could smell the other males’ lust as they gazed at his mate?
His beast broke free. “Mine,” he roared.
He flipped her around, ripped the shirt off her back, and took her down to the floor onto her knees. Forcing her legs apart, he impaled her with one deep thrust. She bucked and fought beneath him, but he swiftly overpowered her. Teeth locked on to her shoulder, he rutted on her like a beast gone wild. There was no thought or reasoning left within him.
Intent on proving his claim without a doubt, he pounded into her until she relaxed, arched her back, and raised her ass while whimpering, accepting his dominance. Raising eyes gone totally wolf, he stared at his men, daring them to challenge his claim. Caleb raised his hands and withdrew slowly until he was out the door. MacDougal smirked, crossed his arms over his chest, planted his feet, and watched, eyes still full of lust for Shay.
MY MATE.
He roared again, flashing his fangs in challenge as Shay shuddered beneath him, her pussy clamping around him like a vise as she came with a muffled scream. Growling low in his throat, eyes locked with his third, Rory pulled out and stroked his cock with his fist, spewing cum all over Shay’s back and ass, scent marking her so there’d be no doubt to whom she belonged.
MacDougal snorted and finally strode from the house. Watching him, Rory knew one day he’d have to do something about him. He wouldn’t continue to allow challenges to his leadership. His father would have already killed MacDougal by now. His thoughts were interrupted by Shay scrambling away from him. As soon as she gained her feet, she scampered off, running up the stairs. She never looked back.
Rory flinched at the sound of an upstairs door slamming.
What had he done? He looked at his hands with the claws still extended and thought back on all the times he’d seen his father do this very same thing to his mother. A man he’d sworn he’d never be like. With a cry of self-directed fury, Rory slammed his fists on the floor.
Slowly, cold resolve filled his being. It was his responsibility—no, his duty—to protect his mate, even from himself. Knowing what he had to do, he went to the kitchen wall phone and jabbed in a number. As he’d hoped, Kiesha answered the phone.
