Outlaw Alpha
Page 6
Liam cocked his head in question. “It can. It’s tasteless when dissolved in liquid.”
Fear made her tremble. Who would do something like that? Lachlan? He’d given her the bottle of Jack. But it had never left her hands after she’d opened it. And it had been sealed. That much she remembered.
She scrambled to piece together anything before she and Liam had set the world on fire, but everything was a bit of a blur. Anyone could have put something in her drink, and she’d been so focused on her misery, she would have missed it.
Tensing, she muttered, “Shit.”
Liam eased her away from him but didn’t let her leave the circle of his arms. “Why don’t we put all accusations aside for the moment and deal with the issue at hand. Like the fact that you’re now my mate.”
She chuckled then because those words were wildly more appealing than declaring she was Courtland’s mate. “What exactly does that mean? I’m not up on my vampire rules and regulations. I’ve been a bit out of the loop.”
“Before we talk any more, you need to feed again. Now, here’s the crux of that problem. The synthetic blood we drink is at a premium right now. And it’s harder still to come by because of the thing that went down with Angus Sweeten.”
Freya searched her brain, trying to remember the conversation she’d had with Claire about Sweeten. “He was the guy Courtland’s brother was trafficking young vampire girls for, right?” Young girls as in Liam’s sister, Hadley. God, what a mess that had been.
Liam’s fist clenched, the bluish veins in it pushing at his skin. “Yep. He’s the one. Gannon was kidnapping and selling vamplings to him in return for the synthetic blood, then charging us an arm and a leg for it.”
Freya softened for a moment, thinking of Liam’s sister Hadley. She’d been at the center of that whole debacle with Gannon Dodd, and the primary reason he was dead. As Claire told it, when he’d attempted to kidnap Hadley, Claire had caught Gannon in the act and killed him for it.
During that time, Claire had fallen wildly in love with Liam’s brother Irish, and had allowed him to turn her so they could be together—which was what had brought about the huge argument in the square between the brothers.
Putting a hand on his arm, she asked, “How is Hadley? Has she at least begun healing? Moving forward? That experience had to have been horrific for a kid.” Freya shuddered just thinking about Hadley in Gannon Dodd’s disgusting clutches.
Liam’s lips pressed together, making her wonder what was really going on with him and Irish. Was he really that angry that Irish had turned Claire? So angry he’d let himself be banned from the Fangs?
He shrugged his shoulders with an indifference she knew wasn’t displaying how he truly felt. “I don’t see her much these days, but she texts me every now and again with smiley faces and emojis. I think that means she’s okay.”
Sore subject. Shutting up. “So the blood. You were saying?” The mere mention of it made her stomach growl in hungry anticipation.
“Yeah. The blood. We’re on incredibly short supply because of what happened with Gannon and Angus, and because we can’t locate the guy making the synthetic blood. Angus has him locked up somewhere, and no one has seen or heard from Angus since his run-in with Irish and Claire.”
Her eyes fell to the floor where Clarence sat at her feet, waiting patiently to be petted. Freya reached down and gave his ears a scrub. “Claire told me what happened with him in the Zone.”
The Zone was bad news. Forbidden to any law-abiding citizen, it was a den of sheer iniquity, chock to the brim with paranormals who refused to follow the new laws due to any range of things, like drugs, prostitution and depravity.
Liam rolled his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “Leave it to Claire to go chasing after a madman like Sweeten in a place like the Zone—all alone.”
More resentment. And if they were going to be stuck together, at least for now, he had to have a modicum of respect for her best friend. She’d demand it.
Poking him in the chest, she said, “She went to find out who Gannon was going to sell Hadley to, Liam, and she saved Hadley’s best friend in the process. Probably saved a lot of young female paranormals as well. I’d say that makes her a damn hero.”
Now he let his arms fall away from her. “And almost got herself and all of us killed, and Sweeten got away anyway. So not only did he get away, he no longer sells the synthetic blood to the Dogs.”
“And Hadley’s not some sick human’s sex slave,” she retorted, crossing her arms over her stomach to quell the ugly roar.
Jamming his hands in the pockets of his jeans, Liam gave her a curt nod. “I get it. Claire’s a sore subject. Let’s set her—and my issues with her—aside for now, too, and focus on the blood.”
She licked her lips. Yesss. Let’s talk O positive. Or negative. Or whatever. But they needed to talk about it soon or she’d pass out from the need. This deep, angry, screaming need to drink. “Okay. So you can’t get synthetic blood. I’m guessing that makes me a liability at this point, because I’m one extra mouth to feed.”
“No. Not necessarily. But the answer to the shortage problem will make you angrier at me.”
Freya fought for calm. He was hedging, and if there was anything she hated more than bullshit, it was indirectness. “Just say it, Liam. For the love of Christ, what else is left after turning into a vampire and getting hitched to you for eternity?”
Woe be the person who threw that question out into the universe.
“All right. No more eggshells for you. Because our synthetic supply is low, mates now drink from each other. It’s mandatory and help saves what we have until we can find the damn guy who knows the government’s synthetic blood formula. Word is, Sweeten’s got him locked up somewhere.”
“So what you’re saying is, every time I need to feed, I have to drink from you?” Seriously?
“Yes.”
If there was someone ruling the universe, she’d surely done something, said something, that had plum pissed them off. But okay. She could live with that for the moment. “Okay. So I drink from you. I can live with it. Or not live with it. Or whatever it is I’m doing, now that my organs have stopped functioning. Remind me to remove the organ donor option on my license, ASAP.”
“That’s not all of it, Freya.”
She sucked in her cheeks, fighting the sweet swell of anger. “Make the point, Liam.”
“In the beginning, while your body adjusts, you’ll need a lot of blood. But you’ll also need a lot of what happened between us last night. You won’t be able to control it at first. Add to that the fact that we’re newly mated and in a honeymoon phase of sorts, it means, each time you feed, you’ll also need a…” He cleared his throat, and clearly fought a facetious smile. “A sexual fix.”
Freya snorted. Of course that was the answer to the dilemma. When in doubt, just fuck. “How do you people get a damn thing done if you’re always having sex?”
Leaning on her countertop, Liam scratched Clarence’s ears. “If it’s any consolation, it doesn’t last—or so I hear. It’s the honeymoon phase of vampirism and mating. Once you get past the need for nourishment, it slows down.”
Well, that explained why hardly anyone had seen Claire and Irish since she’d been turned. “So until then I’m going to be a flaming nymphomaniac who can’t control her sexual urges?” Oh, the indignities. It was already bad enough she was a vampire, but a raging hormonal vampire?
If the world swallowed her whole right now, she’d be at peace with it.
Liam barked a laugh, changing the entire landscape of his face. “I’ll help. Scouts honor,” he said on a chuckle, putting his wrist over his mouth to keep from laughing out loud.
Her doorbell rang then, loud and so sharp, it made her double over and press a hand to her ear. “Shut up!” she hissed at Liam, grabbing for the counter to steady herself.
“Freya! Open the damn door!”
Her eyes went wide.
“Freya! I sa
id open the fucking door! This is your mate calling you, and you’d damn well better do what I say!”
Courtland? Oh, shit.
Chapter 6
Liam’s eyes were amused when he whispered on a snicker, “Ding-dong. Mate calling.”
Fear speared her gut. Gripping his forearm, she flashed him a dirty look. “Funny, Vampire Creator. How about I invite my intended werewolf mate in to meet my new vampire mate? Are you staunchly against ménages?”
Liam sobered at that. “Don’t answer the door.”
Courtland pounded again, louder, harder, and with the impatience of a toddler. “Freya! Open the fucking door. I know you’re in there. I can smell you!”
She froze. How could she let him in? He’d smell vampire all over her. Then another terrifying thought struck her. “Where’s your bike?”
“Back at my place. I dropped it off when I picked up the blood for you.”
Courtland pressed a finger to her doorbell repeatedly. “Open the fucking door or I’m bustin’ this motherfucker down!”
Clarence began to bark and snarl, pacing in circles in her entryway.
Freya cringed and pointed to her bedroom with an order. “Go hide in my bedroom. I’ll get rid of him.”
Liam went rigid, spreading his thighs in a defensive stance. “The hell I’m leaving you alone with him. He’s a damn maniac.”
“Go!” she hissed. “I can handle this. Trust me.”
His face hardened. “One wrong word and I’ll kill him, Freya. Understood? I don’t need much of a reason these days.”
“I thought he was your BFF?” She gave him a hard shove toward her hallway. “Just go!”
Courtland began to really drive his finger into the doorbell. “Hold on!” she hollered, diving for the pantry door and digging out some mentholated pads she used when her shoulder ached from sitting so long as she quilted.
Rubbing one on her neck, she tucked it into her shirt. Courtland had begun jiggling the handle of her door when she grabbed a hoodie from the coatrack and drove her arms into it, pulling the hood over her head to partially cover her face.
Giving her nose a hard rub, she pinched it twice to make it an angry red in case Courtland caught a glimpse of her.
She opened the door a crack and peeked out at Courtand’s ugly, contorted mug.
His nostrils flared when he jammed a hand through his long, wispy hair. “What the fuck are you doing in there? I’ve been standing out here for a goddamn coon’s age.”
Freya held the neck of her hoodie tightly closed against a frigid wind she knew existed but no longer felt. “I’m sick. Go away.” She coughed and itched her nose with the palm of her hand for effect.
As though the world only revolved around Courtland and his wishes, he sneered at her. “Well we have mate shit to discuss. So let me in.” He pushed on the door with his shoulder.
“I said, I’m sick. Our mate shit discussion will have to wait.”
“I said we’re gonna do it now.”
Clarence growled, rearing back on his haunches before Freya used her free hand to grab his collar and reprimand him. Forcing herself to remember whom she was dealing with, she attempted to appease Courtland. It would do her no good to rile him.
“And I said no, Courtland. I don’t feel well. Please. I have the flu. We have three months before I have to discuss anything with you, according to pack law. So go home and I’ll see you in the spring. This will give you plenty of time to think about what color table settings you’d like and whether or not we should have the live dove release before or after the reception.”
His thick lips pursed, his brow furrowed in confusion. “A live what? What the fuck kind of gibberish are you talking?”
Rolling her eyes at him, she scoffed. “Never mind. Must be the cold meds.” She forced another cough, trying not to gag as she spoke her next words. “Just go home. You don’t want snot dripping down your face and a raw ass from the runs, do you? What kind of intended would I be if I let you catch my flu? I’m just looking out for you and your health, mate.”
But he wasn’t interested in anything other than his immediate needs—until Courtland’s nostrils flared again, making him jam his nose into the crack of the door.
He smelled Liam. Shit, shit, shit!
“Why the fuck do I smell vampire and Ben Gay, Freya?” he asked, shouldering the door.
“Claire.” She cleared her throat, driving her shoulder back against the door in response. “She was here. She made me chicken noodle soup because I’m sick. I can’t smell a thing with this stuffy nose. Must be her scent lingering…”
Jamming his pudgy ringed finger into the door, he shook it at her. “We’re gonna have to talk about you and that cunt bein’ friends. I don’t like it, and when we’re mated, you’ll have to start acting like an alpha’s wife. We don’t mix with bloodsuckers.”
“Except for your best buddy Liam, right?” Oh! Shut up, Freya! But the words torpedoed out of her mouth before she could stop them while Clarence continued to growl, baring his teeth.
Courtland’s entire face changed, as though he took some sort of sick pride in befriending the enemy. “Liam’s in for some shit—he just doesn’t know it yet. You wait and see,” he offered slyly.
Freya instantly wanted to rip his smug face off in defense of Liam. Instead, she nodded like a good intended should and forced a weak smile to her lips. “I’ll do that. As for now, I’m going to go lay down. I feel miserable. See you in the spring!” She coughed in his face with zeal for emphasis. With a shove to the door she didn’t know she had the strength for, Freya drove it shut and shuddered.
“And that fucking dog goes when we mate, too!” he yelled.
Over her dead body.
Oh, wait…
She let Clarence go, her fists balling into tight wads of ire. The hell she’d give up her best friend and her dog. God, she despised Courtland Dodd. Wanted to drive her fist into his foul mouth over and over—
A soothing hand fell on her shoulder. “Slow down there, newb. I can smell your fury from all the way down the hall. Ease off now. You’re going to have to learn to focus on some control.”
Turning, she let the hoodie fall from her head and looked up at Liam, her body tense. “I want to rip his throat open and feed his entrails to Clarence for his bloody dinner. I mean, I really want to. Maybe more than I’ve wanted to do anything else ever before.”
His hand squeezed her shoulder tighter, sending a jolt of sharp awareness along her spine. “It just feels that way now, Freya. It dulls. All of your senses are magnified due to the change.”
“But I was a damn werewolf, Liam. I had heightened senses. I get it. I didn’t behave like this before.”
“You were born a werewolf, Freya. Not made. It’s different. So think before you act—always.”
“You mean like you did?”
He dragged his finger over the tip of her nose and grinned that knee-melting grin. “I’m going to pretend not to be hurt by that cruel, incredibly unjust remark and chalk it up to your heightened insensitivity.”
Her anger was washed away by instant remorse. If what he said was true, it wasn’t his fault. But was it true? “Sorry. I feel very off-kilter and a little out of control.”
“That’s to be expected. Now, let’s talk about what comes next.”
Freya’s stomach growled in ugly howls of hunger she’d hoped to keep at bay. She wasn’t quite ready for another round in the sack with Liam. It left her too raw, and she was plenty raw already. “Meaning?”
“Meaning, you’re not leaving my side until you adjust. I’m sure Claire told you what that’s like, and based on your reaction to Courtland, it’s best if I keep an eye on you.”
“I don’t need a babysitter.” Not even one as hot as you. But hadn’t she said that just last night to Lachlan at the bar? Yet still, somehow, she’d taken a drug she wasn’t even aware she’d taken.
She needed more than a babysitter. She needed a full-time keeper.
“So I’m going to hide here for how long? How do we resolve this without getting both of us killed?”
His answer was a no-bones-about-it truth. “No clue. But we’ll figure something out.”
Suddenly she was weak, weak and so tired, she could barely keep her eyes open. Too tired to remind him once more this wasn’t a shrug-your-shoulders kind of situation. Too tired to consider investigating how the hell she’d gotten Seventh Heaven in her system. Too tired to remind him their deaths were imminent and they couldn’t stay hidden forever.
She yawned wide. “Why am I so exhausted all of a sudden?”
He chuckled, the sound rich and deep, and scooped her up in his arms, where she was sickly happy to nestle. “Courtland can do that to a person.”
“I hate him. I’d rather mate with Satan.”
“Well, if we’re going by all the angry words you’ve flung at me—arrows straight to my heart, I might add—you have.”
She liked this Liam. She laughed. “I still hate him. Have I said that?” she asked, loopy with fatigue.
Liam made his way back down the hallway with her. “A time or ten.” He set her on the bed gently, his hands tender as he pulled the covers up over her and tucked her in.
Freya snuggled down beneath the warmth of her down comforter. “Why am I so tired again? I thought vampires had super everything.”
Liam sat on the bed beside her, brushing stray locks of hair from her forehead. “You’re adjusting. You need more of everything for a time.”
“Yeah, yeah. This too shall pass. So sayeth Dracula, right?”
“Bloodsucker’s words to live by.”
He began to rise, but she found she wanted him to stay. Gripping Liam’s forearm, she stopped him from leaving. “Use my phone and text Claire, would you, please? Just say something like too hungover to talk. Get back to you tomorrow. Or she’ll come looking to mother me with her special hangover cure.”