The Vampyre Legal Chronicles - Marcus

by CC MacKenzie

  The blue eyes filled to the brim with remorse, the Scottish lilt in his voice, caught her heart and that fact seriously annoyed her.

  "And whose fault is that?" she spat back.

  Marcus’s brows met as he studied her face and received the message loud and clear.

  She hated him.

  His dark eyes narrowed and went icy cold, but Anais held her nerve.

  She would find a way to fix this.

  If vampyres existed, she’d put good money on it other unmentionable creatures existed, too.

  Perhaps she’d find a clever witch person who could help her?

  Investigating an issue was one of her core skills.

  How hard could it be to find a real witch?

  She'd no idea where to even start looking for a witch.

  But if one, just one, was out there, she'd find her or him.

  Nothing like a challenge, Anais.

  The muscles in Marcus’s strong jaw worked and his eyes went dark.

  He gave her a long, hard look, and spoke very slowly.

  "Anais. Don’t even think about going near a witch. I haven’t met a good one yet. You’ll only make things worse for yourself."

  Shock had her sit down hard on a fat leather chair the color of blueberries.

  She stared at him in utter horror.

  "You can read my mind?"

  He had the bare-faced bloody cheek to shrug as if it didn’t matter.

  "Aye, when your emotions are high. It’s easier since I took your vein."

  In a flash she was on her feet and her fangs shot down, her claws curled.

  "Stop it! Stop using that phrase, it’s driving me nuts."

  His response was a growled,

  "I don't care if it drives you nuts. It’s a fact of our lives."

  Anais spun to Saira who was watching the exchange with great interest.

  "I don't want this. Any of this. I don't want to be his bonded mate. Surely he cannot force me? Even if he’s bitten... taken my vein? Surely I have rights?"

  Saira’s dark brown eyes went sharp and sly.

  She flicked a wicked look at a Marcus who was desperately trying to send her a silent message.

  Saira ignored him and turned to face Anais.

  Was that pity she saw in her eyes?

  Anais braced herself.

  "There is a way to extricate yourself from the bond," Saira drawled.

  "Do not say another word, Saira. I mean it," Marcus ordered in a tone Anais knew well.

  There was a time when that tone might have intimidated her.

  She wondered why it didn’t intimidate her now.

  Saira narrowed her eyes fractionally as she studied Anais.

  "Hmm, I wonder if you have it in you..."

  "Saira..." Marcus’s throaty growl warned again.

  Their eyes clashed in an unspoken battle of wills.

  The silence that followed seemed unending to Anais and she was almost at screaming pitch when Saira turned back to face her.

  "If you give your heart freely and truly to another vampyre, Marcus will have no choice but to break the bond."

  Anais blinked.

  Excuse me?

  That was it?

  What sort of a choice was that?

  These lunatics didn’t get it.

  "But I don’t want to give my heart to a vampyre. I don’t want to give my heart to anyone," she yelled at the top of her voice.

  Saira sat in the chair next to Anais and slid Marcus a dark look.

  "What this idiot fool has not explained properly to you is the consequences of his actions. You have our DNA. When you ingested his blood after he took your vein, it triggered the change and you became a fully-fledged vampyre."

  Anais simply shook her head and looked at them.

  "I don’t understand."

  With something like pity in her dark eyes, Saira looked at Anais and continued,

  "I’ll give you the edited version. Many years ago vampyre mates and offspring were kept safe in one place, a retreat, to protect them. However, the Legion raided the retreat, killed the women and stole the children. Time passed and many of our offspring escaped, scattering throughout the world. Somewhere in the past of your genetic footprint is a vampyre. For generations we’ve been searching for the children of the lost. Our males can mate with only one. Marcus found you." Again Saira slid him another dark look. "And good luck with that because you’ll need it."

  Hands fisted on her lap, Anais closed her eyes and tried to remain calm.

  "What," she wanted to know. "Is the Legion?"

  Marcus spoke, "We have enemies, beings, who wish us harm. The Legion are, or I should say were, vampyre."

  Dear God, what next?

  This could not be happening to her.

  It was like being beamed into a parallel universe.

  "What are they now?"

  Saira spoke in a cold voice,

  "They are an abomination. Against our laws they practise magic. Dark magic. In doing so, they ruined their chance of seeding healthy offspring. The Legion are hunting our offspring, too, in the hope of finding females who can bear their seed. Human females are killed by our parasitic vampyre fetus. Too many women have died as the Legion attempt to procreate."

  Trying desperately not to panic, Anais couldn’t help the shiver of revulsion running down her spine.

  She turned to Marcus.

  "Does that mean the Legion will hunt me?"

  In a move that showcased his supreme physical fitness, he moved to crouch down in front of her, took her icy hands in his and stared deep into her eyes.

  "They cannot touch you because you are mine. You belong to me."

  She’d worked with Marcus for six months, Anais knew how he ticked, how his thought processes worked.

  A tiny flame of hope flared in her heart.

  "Did you do this terrible thing to me, to protect me?"

  He looked uncomfortable as he shot a glance at the silent Saira who was watching them like a hawk.

  "I wanted you."

  Hope died inside Anais.

  Bitter disappointment warred with a temper, since she’s been bitten, that was too near the surface.

  Now she had to face the fact that Marcus didn’t have strong feelings for her.

  Oh, he was attracted, but he didn’t care for her or love her or want to protect her.

  She pulled her hands away from his.

  "Want? Is that it? Without a single thought or concern about me, you just took what you wanted."

  He opened his mouth to speak, but Saira interrupted, "Whether you like it or not, now you must be guided by our laws or face the consequences."

  Anais blinked.

  Her gaze bounced from one to the other.

  Consequences?

  "What consequences?"

  "Few humans are aware we exist. To keep it that way strict laws guide our society. The penalty for disobedience or breaking the laws is... harsh."

  Anais could see where the conversation was going.

  "Spit it out, Saira."

  The vampyre medic stared pitilessly into her eyes.

  There was no compassion.

  "The penalty is death."

  Chapter Fourteen

  Anais wasn’t tired.

  Sprawled again on the seven-foot couch, dressed in jeans and ribbed vest for comfort, she tried to relax.

  Her feet were bare. She studied her toes, which thankfully looked human today, and realised with something like shock that she’d been awake, without sleep, for five whole days. Yet another fact to absorb on the steep learning curve that had become her life.

  Marcus hadn’t shaved for the last five days either.

  He sat at the vast desk in their suite barking instructions into his cell phone, his fingers tapping over his laptop keyboard like automatic gunshot.

  "I can’t leave her on her own," he told his brother James. A James who, Anais well knew, was not a happy man at being left with negotiating the contract with
the Chinese.

  Since the deal was worth billions, Anais knew the stress due to the lack of success was getting to Marcus.

  Served the bastard right.

  And after turning her into a vampyre he’d had the damned cheek to try and get her into his bed. Since he had as much chance of that as a snowball had in hell, the battle had not been pretty.

  However, according to the combined opinion of Saira and Marcus, Anais was still vulnerable and the decision had been made at the highest levels of Gillespie, Pattullo and Hindmarch that she could not be left alone. However, having someone hovering around her twenty-four seven, was driving Anais frigging crazy.

  When he’d finished talking to James, Marcus tunnelled frustrated fingers through his usually immaculate hair, which was looking all messy, and what the hell was wrong with her that she found the move incredibly sexy?

  Annoyance with herself made her tongue sharp.

  "So, what’s the grand plan?"

  At her tone Marcus gave her his favourite dead on stare.

  He ran the tip of his tongue over his top teeth, a sure sign of irritation.

  Anais couldn’t resist but prod the beast with a pointy stick.

  "You’re the one who got us into this big mess. You're a fixer. Fix it."

  "We wait until the results of the blood tests come back. We’ll take it one step at a time."

  We will, will we?

  She rose to stand in front of him and opened up the same old argument.

  "You had no right. No right to do this to me."

  Marcus heaved a weary sigh.

  "Cut it out, darlin’. The song is getting old. What’s done is done. We need to move on from this."

  His for-God's-sake-stop-moaning-woman attitude nudged her temper.

  Narrowing her eyes, Anais crossed her arms and cocked her hip.

  "You raped me," she stated baldly.

  Sincerely shocked Marcus merely gaped at her.

  "Anais!" he said, his voice no more than a whisper.

  Ignoring the lick of guilt in her belly, she jerked her chin.

  "You deliberately brought me into this world, without my permission, against my will. What would you call it?"

  He rose and walked around the desk to reach for her.

  "Anais, my wee angel."

  "I'm not you're wee angel." She smacked his hands away. "Don’t touch me," she snarled the words.

  Spinning away, she ran agitated hands through her hair, pacing back and forth with jerky strides.

  "I’m going stir crazy stuck here, with you. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. My concentration levels are all shot to hell." She spun on him. "What are you going to do about it?"

  Marcus sent up a prayer to heaven for guidance.

  He couldn’t blame her for being upset.

  Hell, he was upset himself at the catastrophe that was unfolding in his life, right in front of his eyes.

  Anais made no secret of the truth she hated him.

  Fair enough.

  But how could she possibly accuse him of rape?

  Nausea roiled in his gut and he pressed his hand to the spot.

  His conscience reminded him he hadn’t given her a choice, had he?

  Over the past few days, Marcus had come to realise he absolutely adored her. He adored her bravery, her unshakable heart. He adored how she'd managed to cope with the psychological, as well as the physical changes to her body. Hell, to her world. Again and again, he tried to reach out to her, to help her. To show her that he had real feelings for her.

  But Anais refused to give him a chance to prove it.

  She didn’t believe him, wouldn’t let him near her.

  Watching her now Marcus had to admire her fighting spirit.

  That stubborn little chin was lifted.

  Her fists were clenched, ready for action, and those dark eyes flashed into his with undiluted enmity in their fabulous depths.

  Even dressed in slow slung jeans, which were a little on the big side he noticed, and tiny vest with no bra, she looked fucking gorgeous.

  She’d lost weight and refused to accept synthetic blood products.

  If she didn’t feed soon her vampyre would take over and there was the risk of her escaping and snacking on an innocent passer-by.

  They needed to keep her locked up nice and tight.

  He could hardly pass on the duty of care to another since he was the one responsible for this mess. A mess which was fast turning into an unmitigated disaster.

  To think he’d chosen Anais for her sweet nature.

  Looking at her now standing before him like a warrior, he must have been out of his tiny mind.

  "You need to relax. Chill out. You’d feel better if you ate."

  Her temper was hanging by a thread, he could tell by the clenching of her jaw.

  If she kept this up she’d end up having a complete breakdown, or worse.

  It was at times like this he wished his brother Daniel was around.

  Daniel was an empath.

  He’d be able to talk her down.

  "I’d rather die than touch blood products."

  There was a very real chance, she might indeed die if she didn't feed. Saira was worried about the cut on her hand, too. It wasn't healing as it should. Which was another anomaly, because vampyres healed fast.

  Marcus decided the only choice open to him was to swallow his monumental pride.

  After all, a man had to do, what a man had to do.

  Anais found herself lifted, caught close to his chest as he stalked out of the sitting room with her in his strong arms.

  Between one heartbeat and another she was pressed under him into the comforter of his big bed.

  Heart hammering in her throat, his mouth almost touched hers as deep blue eyes captured hers and reeled her right in.

  She couldn’t look away.

  "How long?"

  Anais struggled against the heady scent of his skin, the feel of his heavy body on top of hers. Her vampyre sat up, riveted to the scene. Immediately, damp desire flooded between her legs.

  Oh no.

  "How long what?" she snarled, fighting to the death against his lethal attraction.

  Marcus began to drop tiny kisses on her cheeks, her nose, her chin.

  "How long have you been madly, completely and utterly in love with me?"

  She jerked.

  At least she tried to and was frustrated when he held her firm.

  Her eyes burned into his, as her frantic heart took a leap into her throat.

  Even if he tied her naked body over hot coals, she would never, ever, admit her feelings for him.

  Never.

  "A delusional vampyre," she drawled. "Who’d have thought it?"

  He ignored the snark, water off a duck's back, and kissed her, a gently teasing whisper of lips to lips.

  And he kept kissing her until, despite herself, she kissed him back.

  Then he lifted his head, and that warm look for her was back in his eyes.

  "Okay, I’ll go first. I fell in love with you that first day you walked into my office. With that tight little body in buttoned-up black Armani, with those big dark eyes looking at me as if I was going to bite you. I’ve never been the same since."

  By the look in his eyes he was perfectly serious, but Anais still couldn’t quite believe his words.

  However, her traitorous heart hammering in her chest seemed to accept the truth, and her heart soared.

  "You did bite me," she reminded him stiffly.

  "So I did." He traced a gentle fingertip down her cheek.

  "You drive me crazy."

  "Right back at you, Anais."

  She sniffed, turned her face away from those amazing eyes that seemed to see right into her soul.

  "I don't understand how your kind have managed to keep your existence a big secret. How old are you anyway?"

  "I have seen two hundred and thirty winters."

  She turned her head to stare at him with big eyes.


  "Oh. My. God. I'd pegged you at thirty-one. Didn't it occur to you that you're way too old for me?"

  His laugh vibrated through her body as he nuzzled the hectic pulse under her ear.

  "Nope. We age slowly."

  "Am I annoying you with all these questions, should I make a list?"

  "Ask away," he dipped his head to rub his nose against hers. "But before you do, why don't you answer one of mine. Admit it. You love me."

  Not a chance in hell, boyo.

  "I’m admitting nothing that might incriminate me in a court of law."

  He gripped her chin, forced her to look at him.

  Then he smiled at her in a way that made stupid heart clench.

  "I’m never giving you up. Why don’t we get married here, this week?"

  Sincerely shocked, she blinked into his eyes.

  Marriage?

  Was he serious?

  By the look in his eyes, it appeared he was serious.

  He had feelings, apart from lust, for her?

  Hope, and a tiny flicker of what felt like sheer happiness flared to life in her heart.

  But she couldn't quite believe it, couldn't quite believe his words that he loved her.

  How could he possibly love her?

  Not once had he ever put her needs before his own.

  Not once.

  He'd trapped her.

  Maybe telling her he was in love was his way to make sure she never escaped him?

  After all, escape was her main goal was it not?

  And as soon as she got her chance, she'd take it.

  But Anais knew she'd have to be careful, very careful. Marcus Gillespie was highly intelligent, most of the time, and a skilled and clever operator.

  Well, she was smart, too.

  She'd just have to follow his lead, see where it led.

  Now her eyes stayed on his.

  "Not only delusional, but insane too. How did I get to be so lucky?"

  He was watching her face very carefully.

  "It’s not hard, Anais. You love me. I love you."

  She had to hand it to him, the man had balls and nerves of steel.

  "Do you really love me, Marcus? Seriously? Because I wonder if loving someone means the same thing to a vampyre prince as it does to us lesser mortals? Loving a person means putting them before one's self. Give me one example of when you put my needs before your own?"