by Kell Amber
“Now I’ve invited some of your enemies to come and play.”
Quentin steeled himself for what might come next, but nothing prepared him for the sight of the fae queen.
“Hello, Quentin. Thanks for finding my husband again.”
Lars threw back his head and howled. Allinea threw a lightning bolt at him, and Quentin barely intercepted the electricity, sending it plowing into a vampire instead.
“Don’t interfere with a marital spat, little boy, or you’ll discover all about being a vampire for yourself,” Allinea spat.
“I’m not going to let you kill my father.”
Allinea tilted her head at him. “But why? He ignored you his whole life.”
“Because you made him.”
Her negligent shrug conveyed her indifference to the fact. “If he really cared, he would’ve found a way.”
Quentin refused to get into a pointless argument with her. He wouldn’t win, no matter what he said. “That doesn’t mean I’ll let you kill him.”
Allinea laughed. The sound sent chills down Quentin’s spine. It contained no mirth but a lot of spite. “You’ll let me do whatever I want, stupid boy, because there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”
Quentin ignored the wave of despair her words caused—the fae could influence emotions. “Don’t you think this is overkill?” He waved a hand toward the attacking group, trying for nonchalance.
She grinned. “Better too much firepower than not enough. Besides, I needed help to get rid of the wolves.”
“Why?”
“Who do you think changed them?” she asked.
“Why would you do that?” Quentin couldn’t imagine the amount of magic needed to convert four powerful fae into beasts.
“Because he was going to leave me, and now he never can!” With a motion of her hands, she pulled a bow out of the air and nocked a flaming arrow in it, ready to shoot.
Quentin quickly cast a shimmering protective shield over himself and Jaks, the blue glow brilliant in the night sky. Her arrow collided with Quentin’s shield, bouncing off.
Allinea scowled. “Why would you protect him? He’s nothing to you,” she spat. Her eyes narrowed to tiny slits.
“He’s my father.”
“Whom you never met. I might have kept him in my world, but he didn’t fight too hard. He could have escaped years ago.”
Quentin heard the truth in her words. “That doesn’t mean you can kill him,” he insisted. “No one deserves to be set on fire.”
“Oh”—Allinea made the bow disappear—“if you only object to the way I kill him, I’m willing to compromise. Would you prefer a dagger or poison? Or maybe a poisoned dagger?” She had such a hopeful expression, as if she expected Quentin to pick one of those choices.
“How about you go home and leave them to me?”
Allinea’s mouth formed a sad pout. “I’m sorry. I can’t go along with that. I think we could’ve been friends if there weren’t the whole ‘I hate your existence’ problem.”
“Yes, I don’t think we can get past that.” Quentin moved to stand in front of the wolves, only for them to growl and push him back.
“Aww, that’s so sweet. Protecting your pup, are you, Lars?”
Lars growled.
“Why don’t you go back to your world and leave him alone?” Quentin shouted.
Jaks stepped closer to Quentin to whisper in his ear. “Careful, babe. The fae are known to hold grudges.”
When Allinea’s focus shifted to Jaks, Quentin wished his lover had remained silent.
“You should listen to your pet vamp. I’d hate to have to kill him.”
Rage spiked through Quentin. An anger so large that his vision blurred beneath the force of his power. He opened his hands to the sky. Clouds formed above him as if he were calling the heavens to do his bidding.
“Quentin, honey, don’t destroy the city!” Jaks placed a hand in the middle of Quentin’s back, grounding him.
Without his lover’s touch, Quentin didn’t know if he’d be able to pull back his magic, but with Jaks tethering him to earth, he could let his magic fly free.
Quentin gathered the magic into a crackling ball of power until it almost burned his hand, and then he released it. In an explosion of power, he knocked all the enemy vampires on their asses. None stood up again.
“I hope you only stunned them,” Jaks whispered in Quentin’s ear. “I might not care about them, but I don’t want you responsible for their deaths.”
“They won’t get up until I’m ready.” Quentin knew he sounded terse, but he refused to feel bad for zapping people who meant him harm.
“Nice trick, boy,” Allinea said, “but those skills won’t stop me,”
“I never thought they would,” Quentin agreed.
He closed his eyes. Now that he knew who had cast the spell, he could destroy it. He let his magic wrap around the fae queen, reading her energy. Once he had her magical signature, he sank it into the wolves. Like unraveling a skein of yarn, he yanked on one corner of the spell and made it fall apart.
A loud crackling noise reached his ears, but Quentin kept his eyes closed and focused on the magic.
One more pull.
There.
The crackling became an explosive boom. Quentin stumbled back and would have fallen if not for Jaks’s hand on him.
“I’ve got you.”
Quentin opened his eyes. He met Jaks’s stare. “I know you do.”
“No! You can’t ruin everything!”
Allinea’s shriek pulled Quentin’s attention away from his lover.
“No, you did when you tried to take everything from me,” a harsh, deep voice said.
Quentin laid eyes on his father for the first time. The man’s familiar features shook him to the core. If Quentin had light blond hair and purple eyes, they could be twins. Lars’s brothers all had the same look; it was as if they were quadruplets. Their magical signatures proclaimed them different, but the average person wouldn’t be able to tell them apart right away.
Jaks spoke in a low voice in Quentin’s ear. “It’s like seeing a group of less gorgeous copies of my mate.”
The four fae men glared at Jaks. The vampire’s soft laugh wafted warm air against Quentin’s skin.
Quentin couldn’t have been happier that the men had transformed with clothing. They must have been dressed when Allinea cursed them. A good thing—Quentin didn’t want to see that much of his relatives.
“You never loved me!” Quentin hadn’t thought it possible, but Allinea’s voice had become even shriller.
“You’re right.” Lars didn’t try to sugarcoat his agreement. “You’re a manipulative, overbearing bitch who’s finally gone too far. The council will approve my divorce without any problem once they learn what you’ve done.”
“They can’t learn anything if you’re dead!” She raised her hand, but nothing happened. “What did you do to me?”
Lars pointed at his chest. “Me? I didn’t do anything.” He turned to face Quentin, his gaze intent. “Anything you’d like to confess, son?”
“I stripped her of her magical energy.” There was no way to put it more nicely.
“You can do that?” one of his uncles asked.
All four fae stared at Quentin as if he’d grown a second head.
“Is there a problem?” Jaks wrapped his arm around Quentin, turning them to face the fae as a united front.
Lars grinned. “Nope. I’m impressed as hell.”
“Let’s take her home. She’ll need to face charges,” another of Quentin’s uncles said.
Lars nodded. “Good plan.”
Allinea turned and bolted. The brothers chuckled.
“You’re letting her get away!” Quentin was outraged.
Lars shook his head. “We can track her.”
“No problem,” the final uncle said.
Quentin wished they’d go do it, then. Now that they were fae again, they could go on their way as far as he was con
cerned.
“Quentin, I wanted to say how pleased I am to finally see you again,” Lars said, stepping forward.
Quentin shook his father’s hand. “Maybe we can do it again sometime, now you’re no longer a wolf.”
Lars squeezed Quentin’s hand. “That sounds wonderful. I’ll get in touch soon, and you can tell me all about yourself.” He gave a pointed look at Jaks.
“I’d like that.” Lars had missed all of Quentin’s childhood, so there was no way he could step into the fatherhood role, but maybe they could at least be friends.
Without another word, Lars and his brothers vanished. Only the leaves spraying up into the air showed where they’d gone.
“Can you teleport the vampires back?” Jaks asked. “I want to escort them to their new prison home for betraying me.”
“Usually I can’t transport this many people, but I think the storm gave me an extra boost.” Quentin muttered an incantation he rarely used, and they all disappeared.
“Good man,” Jaks said.
They looked around them. Only Quentin, Jaks, and Glenn remained.
Glenn grinned. “Nice job, man.”
“Thanks.” Quentin scanned the street. No sign remained of the invading group.
“What now?” Jaks asked.
“Now we go back inside and figure out who else is after us. We still haven’t discovered the identity of the vampire who attacked Glenn.”
“After fae and wolves and spells, that will be the easy part.”
Jaks kissed Quentin on the forehead and then the lips in a kiss far more carnal than usually seen on a public street.
“Maybe we can look into that later.” Quentin licked his lips, trying to get more of Jaks’s delicious flavor. “I have better ideas of what to do with our time.”
“What about your seminar?” Jaks asked.
“For some reason it doesn’t seem as important now,” Quentin confessed.
“Hey, yoo-hoo! Before you get all wrapped up with each other, Quentin, could you give me a boost?”
“Sure.” Quentin focused and sent Glenn back to the vampire mansion.
“Now it’s just us alone, whatever will we do?” Jaks asked teasingly.
“I’m sure we can think of something.”
Jaks picked Quentin up and threw him over his shoulder. “I already have some ideas.”
Quentin laughed, and for once he didn’t try to teleport them anywhere. He was curious about what his vampire had planned.
No matter what happened in the future, at least now Quentin had someone to make his love life more exciting. He could never have dreamed he would find his perfect vampire match while hunting another one.
Coming Soonish
Quentin Heart Vampire Consort
My Man Declan (Sample)
Please Note My Man Declan takes place chronologically before Marking Mikel.
Declan West tidied the den. Plumping pillows and verifying not a speck of dust graced any surface. After the third run through to check that everything sat in its proper place, he gave the room a pleased nod. With his obsessive-compulsive tendencies temporarily sated, Declan left his master’s office and headed for the front door.
The clock struck midnight as he reached the wooden double doors. Without checking the peephole or peering through the front windows, he pulled the doors open just as his master, Phoenix Moorhaven, walked up the steps.
“Good evening, Declan,” Moorhaven said in his rich, mellow voice.
“It is technically morning, sir,” Declan corrected him automatically as he did every day at this time.
“So it is,” the vampire agreed, his gold eyes shining with amusement.
“You let your servant talk to you like that!” The blonde lady on Moorhaven’s arm sneered at Declan.
“Mind your manners, dear. I might be the leader of the vampires, but Declan is the master of my house,” Moorhaven scolded. His tone might have been mild, but his expression went colder than the Arctic Circle.
Declan took Moorhaven’s coat without comment. The opinion of one blonde tramp meant nothing to him. His master would fuck her, suck her, and toss her out at sunrise. Moorhaven never kept his food around for long. As far as Declan could tell, his master had no interest in any human, male or female, beyond sustenance.
“The den is prepared for you, sir,” Declan prodded, eager to have the vampires out of the way so he could finish his morning rituals.
Moorhaven’s warm smile, the one he saved only for Declan, eased his irritation. He might merely be a servant, but Declan knew how much the vampire appreciated the smooth running of his household. Moorhaven’s pleasure in Declan’s job was shown in the many bonuses Declan found in his paycheck.
“Good morning, Master Lorrie, I didn’t see you at first. Please accept my apologies,” Declan greeted Moorhaven’s vampire companion.
Lorrie Bellows, the second in command of the vampire coven, gave Declan a friendly nod. “That’s all right. I know I don’t exist until you have Moor settled.”
Declan granted Lorrie one of his rare smiles. Lorrie had a winning way without using over-the-top flattery. There were always a few who tried to get to Moorhaven through his prized servant, forcing Declan to waste his precious time returning their presents and bribes.
Declan’s integrity wasn’t for sale.
“May I take your coat, sir, and that of your companion?”
They both handed over their expensive outerwear. Moorhaven’s bite for the evening hadn’t bothered wearing a jacket, probably worried about hiding her cleavage. Declan could’ve told her the vampire cared more about her blood than her breasts, however he stayed silent. He never interfered with donors as long as they didn’t mess up the house.
Declan hung up the jackets with meticulous care, then closed the door only to turn and find the entire party staring at him.
“There are drinks and snacks in the west parlor,” he prompted. He always put out food for the guests. They tended to be hungry after the vampires fed.
Really, why were they still there watching him?
Moorhaven nodded and wrapped an arm around his food for the evening to lead the girl away.
“So when are you going to leave Moorhaven and come work for me?” Lorrie teased as he walked past.
Moorhaven spun around, abandoning his date. “What?”
Declan didn’t roll his eyes, but only because it would take away from his dignity. “Master Lorrie appears to think I’m underpaid and overworked,” he explained.
As he spoke, Declan’s gaze zeroed in on a piece of lint sticking to Moorhaven’s suit. Annoyed that it had passed his previous inspection, he walked over and plucked it from the vampire’s jacket. He carefully brushed down the fabric to smooth over the slight mark he’d made with his nails.
Declan almost jumped when a large hand tilted his chin up until he met his boss’ eyes. “Were you considering leaving me?”
For a moment, he thought he saw a flash of hurt in Moorhaven’s eyes but abandoned the idea as foolish. “Don’t be ridiculous, sir. Why would I leave here? You’re an excellent employer.”
“Good.” Moorhaven stroked Declan’s head like a favored pet. “I’d be at loose ends without you.” He pointed a finger at Lorrie. “I forbid you to steal my butler. The entire coven would be in disarray if Declan weren’t here to keep me in line.”
Lorrie laughed. “Surely you exaggerate.”
Moorhaven shook his head. “Nope. Declan organizes my life to perfection, so don’t go messing with it.”
Declan’s head got another stroke. “Take the rest of the evening off, Declan, and don’t go wandering in the woods. You nearly gave me a heart attack last time.”
He didn’t bother to acknowledge Moorhaven’s grumbled order. “I’ll see you later, sir.” He gave Master Lorrie a reproachful look that was met by a playful wiggle of his eyebrows.
Shaking his head, Declan headed for his room. He didn’t want to be around while the vampires fed. Sometimes their partn
ers moaned really loud. It only underscored to Declan that he needed to find a lover, but who was going to get together with a slightly neurotic butler who had to be on twenty-four hour call for his boss. Few men would put up with being second place to any job, much less one involving vampires.
Back in his room, Declan pulled up his profile on the online dating site he recently joined. He spent the next few hours going through the improbable bios and dirty emails he’d received while he had been working.
* * *
“You’re not still mad at me, are you?”
Phoenix watched his best friend pour himself another scotch. The girls were already gone, having been bundled into their limo previously arranged by the ever-efficient Declan.
“Stay away from my butler. I don’t like to see Declan disturbed,” Phoenix said.
“It would take a natural disaster or a herd of dust bunnies to bother that man. He’s unflappable. Are you sure he’s not a robot?”
Phoenix gave a bark of laughter. “Yes, I’m positive.”
“Have you ever tasted his blood?” Lorrie asked curiously.
“No! He’s my servant, not my food source.” He scowled at his friend.
Lorrie flashed him a cheerful smile. “Good, then you won’t mind if I try a sip as long as I don’t steal him away.” Lorrie’s chatter ended when Phoenix flashed across the room and wrapped his fingers around Lorrie’s throat. He leaned in close so there was no way his warning couldn’t be heard.
“If you ever touch a fang to my butler, I will rip out all your teeth and you’ll have to figure out how to suck blood through a straw.” Phoenix shook his best friend, slamming him repeatedly against the wall as anger burned through him like an out of control brush fire. “No one touches Declan.”
“Whoa,” Declan’s smooth voice broke through Phoenix’s rage. Soft hands pulled ineffectively at his wrist. “Master Phoenix, let go of Master Lorrie.”
He released his friend, pleased when he crumpled with a thump to the floor.
“I beg your pardon, Declan, I lost my temper,” he apologized to his butler. He hated for Declan to see him at less than his best.
