“We witness.” A tall woman stepped forward with a nod. Kara, one of my mother’s kin, whose word was as good as her bond.
“Thank you.” I managed a small smile in return and turned back to Zane. “You can let her go now.”
“No!” Herja cut in. “Let him see first. Show him your face and see if he still wants you.”
Crunch time.
Lifting my hands, I pulled the concealing hair back from my face to the nape of my neck. Most of my sisters looked away. Whether in discomfort at my disfigurement, or to spare my blushes, I have no clue.
Zane just smiled. “Really? That’s what she’s been beating you up about?”
His gaze lingered on my cheek, followed the three puckered lines of scarring across the skin, claw marks courtesy of the changeling demon. Let me tell you, those demon claws burned like a bitch.
“Sweetheart, they just make you look sexy. Seriously dangerous and as sexy as fuck.”
As he spoke, he disengaged his claws, letting his captive go. She staggered a little, gasping as she rubbed at her neck. I ignored her, taking a step toward Zane.
He enfolded me in his arms, his touch easing the pain in my heart as his fingertips stroked over the marks on my cheek.
“They… you are beautiful,” he said softly. “Never doubt that. Ever.”
I smiled a little. “I’ll try, but I might need you to keep telling me.” (What? Every girl likes her guy to keep telling her he thinks she’s beautiful. So sue me.)
His fingers tucked under my chin, lifting it for his kiss and my eyelids began to flutter closed.
If I’d been thinking right, the attack was as predictable as hell. Despite her promise, Herja screamed and launched herself at us, her blade raised overhead to deliver the killing blow.
Zane moved faster than anything I’d ever seen. With a roar of fury, he turned, shielding me with his larger body, arm lifted over his head to block. I caught my breath, watching in horrified fascination. The blade would sever his arm and then bury itself deeply in his chest. A Valkyrie blade, designed to sever souls… the effect would be devastating.
As the blade touched his skin though, there was a blinding flash and power exploded through the room, charging the very air around us. I blinked the dancing lights away from my eyes…
“Fuck me.”
I don’t know who spoke, but yeah, fuck me was the only way to describe it.
Zane stood in the middle of the room, but not as the vampire he had been before. Instead, silver armor was molded to his impressive physique, taloned gauntlets on his hands. His lips quirked as Herja looked at him in utter shock.
“Woah…”
“Shit, he’s Valk-born?”
“How… I thought he was vampire?”
He ignored them, watching Herja carefully. I closed my eyes, knowing what was coming. There was only one reason she wouldn’t have been able to kill him.
“Hello, Mother.”
“So, you’re a Valkyrie as well?”
I’d spent the last hour leaning against the wall, concealed by the shadows as all hell had broken loose. Faced with her own child, a half-vampire child at that, the last thread of Herja’s sanity had snapped. Wailing uncontrollably, she’d attacked Zane again and again, until she’d been restrained and transported away. After that, Kara had taken over, her manner polite and courteous as the rest of the council members were pulled in to deal with this new development.
I’d wandered off at that point. I didn’t do politics well, and a male Valkyrie not controlled by the council? That was a shit-ton of politics I didn’t need to be involved with. Besides, until someone lifted it, I was banished.
Zane smiled as he walked toward me. His armor had vanished, hidden away until he needed it again. “Apparently so. I’d always had my suspicions, but apparently true hybrids are rare.”
“As rocking horse shit.” I nodded as he reached me, sliding a hand onto my waist to pull me up against him. His body was warmer now, as though the guise of the vampire had been discarded, burned away when he’d called on the power of Valhalla. “So what happens now?”
He reached up, brushing my hair back from my face to tuck it behind my ear. I didn’t stop him, even though the scars were fully on display. I was done hiding. I didn’t need to anymore. Not with the love shining in his eyes.
“Well, I was thinking about throwing all these people out and picking up where we started,” he breathed, leaning down to brush his lips over mine. My heartrate kicked up three notches, desire sizzling through my veins as I parted my lips for his kiss.
A polite cough stopped us mid-kiss. I rolled my eyes to the side to see Kara standing next to us, politely studying the ceiling.
With a sigh I disengaged. “Can I help you? Or are you just into watching?”
The flush on her cheeks was hot enough to cook eggs. Interesting, she must be one of the true virgins amongst us. “The council have decided to lift the banishment placed on you, Tove.”
I met her eyes levelly but didn’t reply.
She shuffled her feet as though discomforted. “Well, we wondered if you were…coming home?”
I looked up into Zane’s eyes and smiled.
“I am home.”
The End
About Mina Carter
Mina was born and raised in the East Farthing of Middle Earth (otherwise known as the Midlands, England) and spend her childhood learning all the sorts of things generally required of a professional adventurer. Able to ride, box, shoot, make and read maps, make chainmail and use a broadsword (with varying degrees of efficiency) she was disgusted to find that adventuring is not considered a suitable occupation these days.
So, instead of slaying dragons and hunting vampires and the like, Mina spends her days writing about hot shifters, government conspiracies and vampire lords with more than their fair share of RAWR. Turns out wanna-be adventurers have quite the turn of imagination after all…
www.mina-carter.com
Conquered by Chloe Cole
Conquered by Chloe Cole
New England Nightwalkers
When Phin first met Steph, he thought she was the most irritating, annoying, sexy, unforgettable woman he’d ever met. He fought his attraction to her because she was human and could never be his. But even after he used every trick in the nightwalker arsenal to make her forget him, her heart remembers. Can he stay strong enough for both of them, or will he give in to the chemistry between them that not even magic can stop?
Chapter 1
"You're literally killing me right now."
Steph pressed the delete button on her phone as Zara's voice echoed in her ear through the receiver.
It was the fourth voicemail Zara had left her today, which meant that she was maybe one more call away from coming over here and banging on the door.
Not good.
She stared out the window into the inky darkness and blew out a sigh. It wasn't that she didn't want to talk to her friend. Hell, they'd been closer than ever the past eight weeks since Zara's health scare out in Montana. But lately, weird stuff had been happening. Stuff Steph couldn't explain and was afraid to say out loud to anyone else.
Even to Zara.
She turned and tossed her phone onto the couch before making her way into the kitchen. She was usually a really responsible drinker. Weekends only, and even then only enough to get a little silly. But three nights in a row now she'd plowed through a bottle of Merlot all by herself and was seriously considering doing it again.
She plucked a wine glass down from the cabinet and set it on the counter before pausing. And what had she learned from her recent spate of drinking? It didn't change anything. She was still having those increasingly disturbing dreams and strange images flitting through her mind, only lately, she’d had a headache in the mornings to boot.
She put the wine glass back in its place and leaned her ass against the countertop right as her phone rang again. Dollars to donuts it was Zara again. Steph had called in sick that
morning and now Zara was like a dog with a bone.
Might as well get it over with.
She scurried back into the living room and snatched up the phone.
"Hello?"
"Oh, good. I was getting worried," Zara said, the relief in her voice plain to hear. "Are you feeling any better?"
Steph shoved back a twinge of guilt. "Yeah, I think it was just something I ate. I feel pretty good now, actually. How was work today?"
"It was slow. Don't worry, I didn't even miss you."
That was good, at least. She already felt bad enough for lying and calling out sick when she technically wasn't, so if Zara had wound up having a really busy day at the library, she would've felt even worse.
"Well, at least tomorrow is Saturday, so you can rest up for the weekend and feel better," Zara said reassuringly.
"Yeah, hopefully that will help. What are you up to?" Steph forced herself to ask in an attempt to seem normal when she felt anything but.
"Gabriel and I are actually going away this weekend. He wants to take me to this inn on Block Island."
Steph found herself smiling for the first time in days. It was great to see Zara so happy in a relationship. Steph had been a little worried about it at first what with Gabriel being the aloof but gorgeous part owner of a local, underground BDSM club and all. But he'd proven her wrong, sticking close to Zara when she'd gotten gravely ill and really stepping up to care for her. He was a fixture now, coming to the library to visit and pick Zara up for work, and Steph liked him more every day.
“Are you sure you’re okay? I can stop by on our way out and bring you some soup or something?”
Funny, Zara mother-henning her over her fictional illness when she was the one who had been close to death just a couple months before and looked pale to this day.
"Nope. And seriously, I feel much better so don't worry about me. Get out and get some sunshine, promise me?"
"I feel great, Steph. Pinky swear."
A sizzle of unrest shuddered through Steph despite her friend's words. Zara sounded good, so there was no reason to doubt her. If only she could shake this weird feeling. It had been hounding her since they'd left Montana. Yes, it had been a stressful time when she'd gotten the call from Gabriel letting her know that Zara had gotten sick and had asked Steph to fly out there. And yes, maybe all the drama and worry had caused her to be forgetful, but somehow it seemed that there were large, gaping holes in her memory from that week. Even now, she struggled to recall how she'd gotten to the airport for her flight home.
She had a vague memory of stepping onto the plane, but it seemed insubstantial. When she closed her eyes and tried to picture the passengers around her or the flight attendants, there was just grey space.
Unbidden, the image of a man rose in her mind for the countless time. Mocking smile, light brown hair shot with gold like a lion, with eyes to match and the physique of a gladiator. This particular memory was as clear as the others were cloudy. Only this wasn't a memory. She'd never met him. In fact, she'd never even seen him. But there he was, firmly implanted in her brain like a thorn she couldn't dislodge.
Who the hell was he and why had she conjured him in her mind? Worse, why couldn't she get him out?
She squeezed her eyes closed and let out a frustrated groan.
"What's wrong?" Zara asked.
Steph nearly groaned again into the forgotten phone. This was getting ridiculous. These dreams and delusions were getting in the way of her sleep, her friendships, and her work. It was time to hit it head on.
"Nothing at all. I just remembered, I left a pie in the oven. Gotta go. Have a great time this weekend!"
She hung up the phone and crossed the floor to her bedroom, suddenly filled with a sense of purpose. Doing nothing would only give her more time to obsess. This was a shot in the dark, but at least she'd feel like she was taking control of the situation by acting.
Every time this man's face crept into her mind--and it was often--a memory of Gabriel seemed to follow shortly after. Gabriel holding a cold cloth to Zara's forehead as she tossed and turned in restless sleep. Gabriel rubbing Zara's back as she vomited in the toilet. Those felt more real, more substantial than the ones of the other man. But what the connected images in her mind did do was make her wonder if Gabriel had something to do with this mystery man she'd begun to mentally refer to as the golden lion. She couldn't seem to shake the feeling that they knew each other somehow. If she wanted to put that idea to rest, maybe it was time she headed over to Gabriel's stomping grounds. It was a long shot to be sure, but it couldn't hurt.
At the very least, it would be less disturbing than these strange thoughts were. Because while the random mental images of Gabriel that popped in her head seemed to come in close proximity to the ones of the stranger, they were distinctly not the same. When she thought of Gabriel, she thought of Zara. When she thought of her mystery man?
She thought of carnal, no holds barred, uninhibited sex.
Her cheeks flushed as she swung her closet door open and peered inside. It was definitely time to get to the bottom of this. Now to figure out what one might wear to a BDSM club...
Phin set his drink down with a sigh and kicked back in his chair. The two women in the corner just twenty feet from him were going at it like they were the only two people in the room and couldn't get enough of one another, but he found himself entirely unmoved. In fact, that mild case of ennui that had been shadowing him since he'd become a nightwalker scores of years before seemed like it was sucking the joy out of everything lately.
He looked away, disinterested, and managed a grin for Irena as she stepped into the room.
"You're looking sharp this evening, Fenton," she murmured.
Phin inclined his head and offered his old friend a smile. "Thank you. Likewise."
It was true. Irena looked gorgeous as usual. Her long black hair hung in waves around a stunning face that belonged etched onto a cameo. Her figure was dynamite, and shown to its best advantage in a pair of skin-tight leather pants and a bustier.
"Is Ezekiel going to let you out like that, love?" he asked with a chuckle.
Irena's sherry-colored eyes snapped with fire and she laughed in return. "Please. He might be my Master, but he is certainly not my boss."
There was no question in his mind that she was speaking the truth. Her new mate was the most powerful vampire of all. A centuries’ old nightwalker who had been the originator of all the rest. There had been a scary incident just a couple months back where Irena, his second in command, had been forced to stage a coup against him because he'd lost his mind for a while after the loss of his first mate. Now, though, all was well again and his two brethren had proven to themselves what many of the rest of them had known for a long time.
They were perfect for one another.
"Besides, he's out playing cards tonight with some business associates," she added with a wink. "And what he doesn't know won't hurt him."
She sashayed away to greet the Club Nitris clients straggling in and charm them into handing over their monthly dues with a smile.
He picked up his drink and drained the rest of it in one swallow. Maybe it was time to head out of the underground Dark Side of the club and into the public bar area. Silly, maybe, since the women here were ripe for the picking. Even now, the pair in the corner was glancing his way, as if they were thinking about inviting him over. But for some reason, he was still completely uninterested. Perhaps a little bit more of a challenge would brighten up his night.
He dropped a twenty onto the bar and was about to stand when the door that sectioned off the public and private sides of the club slid open soundlessly.
A woman stood in the doorframe for a long moment before turning her gaze on him.
At first, all he saw was the body. Compact. Firm with subtle curves. Pert breasts encased in a fitted, black crop-top. Sturdy hips and a flat stomach leading to strong, muscular legs, clearly outlined in a second-skin denim skirt. The body of
a gymnast. But it was the shoes that really got him. He'd never thought of himself as a shoe guy, but the lacy peep-toe stilettos sent a bolt of hot blood rushing to his cock. He sat up straighter and let his gaze trail up to her face.
Then he blanched.
Bloody hell.
He knew that face. Pert nose, high, wide cheekbones with a small, pointed chin that formed a perfect heart. Eyes the color of spring bamboo.
Steph.
He flitted his gaze away before she noticed him noticing her, and tried to think his next move through, in spite of the irritating blast of desire pulsing through him.
He didn’t know why he wanted this woman so badly. Hell, he didn't even like her…much. She had been a fly in his ointment the entire time he'd been forced to spend with her out in Montana when he’d gone out to assist Gabriel with Zara’s turning. She’d asked too many questions, dug too deeply. All of which made her sudden presence at the club even more disturbing.
She stepped into the room, wringing her hands in front of her as she searched around, for what, he couldn't say. One thing was very obvious. This was clearly her first time in a place like this, because she looked just as apt to turn tail and run as she did to come in and have a drink.
He waited, muscles tense and at the ready, as she scanned the dozen or so people in the room, her gaze stuttering at the two women making love in the corner and then finally, moving to him.
And then he knew.
Her eyes shot wide open. Her pretty mouth formed a delicate oh. Her hand fluttered to her chest as she took a step back.
She recognized him. Her gaze was locked on him now and her visceral reaction told him more than words ever could. She knew him, there was no doubt. And that was bad news for little miss Stephanie.
As he moved toward her, a member of the security team approached her, asking for her membership card, but Phin cut between them smoothly. A grim sense of finality settled over him as he spoke.
Taming the Vampire: Over 25 All New Paranormal Alpha Male Tales of Contemporary, Military, Shifters, Billionaires, Werewolves, Magic, Fae, Witches, Dragons, Demons & More Page 92
