Outlaw Alpha

by Dakota Cassidy

  “Believing that you don’t care what happens to your vampire.”

  Stay calm. Stay focused. “He’s not my vampire.”

  “So then you won’t mind one itty-bitty-bit if I give the all-systems-go signal?”

  Taking a step back, she didn’t just bump into the demon holding the gun to her head, but she knocked into something on the floor. A quick sweep of her eyes downward wrought more horror.

  Claire. He really did have Claire. Bound and gagged and as unconscious as Liam.

  Turning to Angus, she nuzzled his cheek with her nose and grinned, forcing her repulsion deeper into another compartment in her brain. “Do you need my approval, Snooky? Are you one of those men who insists on a constant stroke to his ego? Because I’ll warn you, handsome. I’m not your girl. I like independent thinkers only.”

  Angus drew his hands together and pressed them to his chest, gazing at her fondly. “Oh, Freya! I think I love you. But just in case you’re simply toying with my emotions—which, I’ll add, would cut me like a dang Ginsu—I’ll lay it all on the table for you. Do you see that needle in the big, brawny vampire’s arm?”

  She nodded, fighting the swirl of terror whooshing through her belly. “Yep.”

  “One wrong move from you and two things happen at once. My man here with the gun shoots you in the head with a dart full of holy water and we all watch you burn from the inside out.”

  Show no fear. No fear. No Fear. No fear. “And the second thing?”

  Angus grinned, leaving behind the oily residue of his evil. “The brawny vampire gets the same—and then we have a bonfire of vampires!”

  She fought the gasp of horror with everything she had and twisted toward him, returning his grin. “Delicious. You really are deliciously evil.”

  Angus nodded. “And so desperately underappreciated.”

  Freya nodded with him. “It ain’t easy being a demon.”

  “Oh, Freya. Run away with me, would you? Let’s skip off into the sunset together and live happily ever after,” he cooed.

  “Sunsets burn. How cruel of you to suggest something so heinous, Angus Sweeten. And just when I thought you were courtin’ me all right and proper.”

  Angus gasped, his face mocking horror. “Why of course! How insensitive of me. Will you ever forgive me?”

  She giggled, coy and flirty, keeping her restrained hands low at her back in order and prayed she could break the restraints. “If you say please.”

  Jesus. Where the hell were all those Fangs Liam had talked about?

  “But first, we have business to take care of, don’t we, my queen? I’m afraid you’ll find business almost always comes first with me, Freya. I hope that won’t sour the idea of a relationship with me for you.”

  She twisted her wrists, flexing and turning them in preparation to break free. “And that’s as it should be. I’m no sourpuss. So do what you will. I’ll wait.”

  “But there’s just one thing more, Freya. One little blip that will tear us asunder, I fear.”

  “What’s that?”

  With a move so swift she never saw it coming, Angus grabbed her by the neck and drove her into the far wall of concrete blocks. “You’re a dirty, dirty liar. That’s what! I know all about you and your boy-toy. And to think, I was giddy with expectation. But now my disappointment is so deep, you have to die. I couldn’t bear it if you walked this earth without me by your side, pretty Freya. I’d die a hundred deaths.”

  Her head bobbed back and forth before he came back into focus again. But still, she maintained her cool. “Oh Angus, why do you hurt me so with your treachery? I guess we’re just not meant to be.”

  He let go of her then, watched her slide down the wall with a look of feigned sympathy on his face. “Yeahhh,” he said on a sad sigh. “Breaking up is so very hard to do.”

  Freya lifted her chin, her hands finally free as she inched her way back up the wall. “Don’t be sad that it’s over, be glad that it happened.”

  He chucked her under the chin with a smile. “You hear that, boys? My love has broken my heart. But you know what that means, don’t you?” He paused for dramatic affect before he bellowed, “Looks like it’s all systems—”

  The explosion of concrete from across the room happened with such rapid force, Freya did the only thing she could think to do—lunge for Liam.

  As the blocks erupted into chunks of debris, flying in every direction, she sprang forward, throwing herself on Liam’s body and tearing the needle from his arm.

  Irish was the first to burst through the jagged hole in the wall, heading straight for one of Angus’s men, his face tight with rage.

  “Irish!” she screamed, shoving the table with Liam still on it behind her. “Get the guns!”

  Stone plowed his way through the hole, his eyes making a quick assessment before he tucked his head down and drove into one of Angus’s men.

  Screams filled the air as the Fangs poured into the room, latching onto one demon after another, fighting their way through the swarm of men who’d turned into hissing creatures.

  Freya’s eyes went to Claire, still in a ball on the floor. But just as she made a break across the room to get to her, one of the Fangs scooped her up and took off, and that’s when she realized, she’d left herself and Liam wide open and Angus was heading straight for Liam—a wooden stake in his hand.

  There was no panic. No sound. No fear when she reached behind her, grabbing the end of the dagger and ripping it from her back, shaking off the leather sheath. There was only the possibility that Liam would die, and the overwhelming pain the idea of never seeing him again wrought.

  She charged across the room with a speed she hadn’t experienced since she’d become a vampire and landed on Angus’s back.

  Raising the dagger high and without hesitation, she plunged it into the side of his neck, deep, hard.

  His scream, the sizzle of skin, the tendril of smoke, made her gag as they dropped to the floor and Angus rolled to his back, leaving her sprawled out next to him.

  She scrambled to her haunches, ready to tear the dagger from his neck and plunge it into him again if she hadn’t done the job right the first time.

  He reached a hand up to her, trembling as the flesh began to peel away from it. She fought not to gag again when she grabbed the front of his shirt. “Where?” she rasped out. “Where are you keeping the person who has the formula?”

  His lips began to move even as the skin from his cheeks melted away. “Such fools. All of you…” he hissed, as his body trembled and quaked.

  But Freya hauled him up with a hard jolt, shaking him until her fist ached. “Where are you keeping the person who makes the blood?” she screamed at him.

  Suddenly, he opened wide what was left of his mouth and cackled. “It was me all along,” he said on an eerie, childlike giggle. “I make the blood!”

  Freya let out a mournful howl of frustration as Angus disintegrated in her hands, leaving her sitting on the floor with nothing but his ashes beneath her.

  * * * *

  One Week Later

  Liam sat up on her bed as she fussed about him, busy tucking the covers around his broad chest while Clarence lie on the floor, never far from him. “I feel like I’m not doing enough to help you recuperate, McConnell. I mean, it’s not like I can offer you chicken soup because you don’t eat. What does a woman do for her mate when he’s a vampire and recuperating from an almost drug-overdose?”

  Liam grinned at her, and latched onto her arm. “She tends to his, er, baser needs.” He held the covers up and pointed to his stiff shaft with a chuckle.

  As enticing as he was, as much as she’d missed making love to him, she wasn’t going to risk his recovery. “Oh no sir, Bloodsucker. Your doctor friend said you need to rest for at least another two days before any physical activity. That means no woot-woot, buddy.”

  But Liam wasn’t your average bloodsucker. He pulled her down to his lap and dropped a kiss on her lips. “I’m a doctor, too, you
know, and while I get why Godfrey is being cautious, he forgets we no longer have to worry about medical malpractice. He’s being overly cautious when there’s nothing to be cautious about. Besides, it’s been forever since we made the woot-woot,” he teased.

  She rolled her eyes at him and giggled. “Don’t be ridiculous. We made the woot-woot just before this happened. A week isn’t forever.” Though, it was beginning to feel like it.

  Liam groaned when she shifted position. “I don’t know, someone under the covers says it feels like it’s been forever.”

  Rising to straddle his lap, she planted a kiss on his lips, so sick with joy that he was still with her. “You were drugged, Liam. Dr. Godfrey had to intravenously pump you full of whatever that crazy concoction of his was to clean your system out. I was never as scared that night as I was seeing you half undead. So please, for me, just do as he advised, and I promise we’ll get right back to the bed-sport the second he greenlights you.”

  God, seeing him helpless on that table while one of his former doctor friends yelped orders and stuck needles in Liam was nothing short of petrifying and she never wanted to come that close to losing him again.

  He gave her the pout she’d come to love before he traced her lips with his tongue. “Okay. Promise. So how are you today?”

  Freya looked down at her hands on his broad chest. It was still so hard to talk about. In all her years, and there’d been plenty, she’d never seen the kind of death she’d seen in just one night.

  “Don’t clam up on me, mate,” he encouraged. “Godfrey also said it helps to talk.”

  But Freya shook her head. “I’m still wrapping my brain around the fact that I killed the person who was making the blood. I know logically what I did was the only thing I could do, or he would have killed you. But my heart says something entirely different.”

  The guilt she’d experienced those first couple of nights while Liam was unconscious was almost too hard to revisit. But she would—when the time was right.

  “You saved me, Freya. Don’t ever forget that. I won’t. It was pretty gutsy.”

  “You saved me first…from Courtland.” Some of it had happened so quickly, in such a blur of motion, she couldn’t remember the finer details—or maybe she just didn’t want to. But as she’d sat beside Liam’s bed while those damn drugs were being drained from his system, Irish had told her Liam had killed Courtland.

  “Speaking of, I heard from Irish today. The women Angus was keeping hostage have all been returned to their families.”

  Those cages, filled with desperate, dead-eyed women, haunted her dreams. Angus had been kidnapping pregnant paranormal women and keeping them captive in order to sell their babies. Almost every night since this had happened, she’d awakened, a silent scream trying to push its way from her mouth as she relived that horror.

  But since Liam had been home, he was always there beside her, pulling her close, whispering words of comfort to her until she fell back to sleep.

  “What about Petra?”

  “Petra’s safe and sound in a mental health facility—one Irish personally inspected and approved. She’ll get the help she needs.”

  Hope bloomed in her chest. She didn’t want Petra to suffer. She just didn’t want her to hurt anyone else. “Anything on the clan and the council and the story Irish fed them about the Dogs?”

  Liam nodded, pulling her hands into his with a warm smile. “I think we’re in the clear. Irish seemed to think so.”

  “I can’t believe they fell for the idea that Courtland was the one who gave me the Seventh Heaven and killed Ethan because he saw it.”

  “When Irish told them you found out he was already mated and confronted him, they didn’t bat an eye at the idea he wanted you out of the way. It wasn’t as though they were totally blind to the fact that Courtland was a despicable human being.”

  But there were moments when fear of discovery still ate her up. “Do you think Petra will ever tell anyone what really happened?”

  “Do you think Petra wants the death penalty, honey?”

  She shivered. “And the remaining two Dogs?”

  Liam shook his head. “I think you know they don’t want the council to ever find out they were helping Gannon sell children to Angus, don’t you? We’ve got them on lockdown, and that’s where they’ll stay.”

  She closed her eyes and warded off the images of that night again, letting her forehead rest against Liam’s. “I bet that clan of yours wasn’t thrilled when they found out you turned me.”

  He chuckled, the deep rumble of it soothing her. “I bet you’re right. But they declared it an unfortunate mishap due to Courtland’s diabolical deeds. It was no one’s fault you were drugged.”

  She shook off her last bit of maudlin thoughts and raised her eyes to meet his. “Okay, all good then. So what shall we watch today? You wanna binge-watch Orange Is the New Black? Or should we return to old faithful and watch reruns of Magnum P.I.?”

  He grabbed his phone when an incoming text pinged, pausing to read it before he said, “No. I want to watch you naked, but in light of the fact that you’ve got me on this pathetic bed rest, I’ll just watch your face when I tell you the other news Irish just texted me. Apparently there was some good news while you were off at your quilting club and visiting Claire.”

  Claire remembered little of what had happened after she’d tried to stop them from entering Angus’s, and for that, Freya was grateful. She’d already been though one round of horror-fest with Angus.

  She curled her hands into his thick hair and smiled at him. “I love good news. Hit me.”

  “Remember I told you they were searching the house where Angus held all those women captive?”

  Oh God. The utter horror of what he used those women for had almost made her give up entirely. But Liam wouldn’t let her. “I do.”

  “Well, they found it. They found the formula for the synthetic blood.”

  Joy bloomed in her chest. “Really? So it can be reproduced?”

  Liam grinned and pulled her tight in his embrace. “It sure looks that way, Lawyer.”

  Thank God. Thank God.

  “Well then, this is cause for celebration isn’t it, Bloodsucker? I say we really do this recuperation thing right and marathon House of Cards.”

  He made his eyes go wide in mock surprise. “Hold up now. Am I hearing you right? I thought that was off-limits until we’d finished all of one show or the other? You have such strict OCD rules about it.”

  It was true; she didn’t like to start a new show without first finishing one. “I’m willing to be flexible and bend the rules for you. But just this once,” she teased.

  “You know, if I’m hearing you right, Miss Flexible, it’s almost like you’re willing to bend the rules because you love me,” he teased, brushing his lips against hers.

  She smiled against his mouth. “Almost, Bloodsucker. Almost.”

  Liam rolled her to the bed, his eyes tender when he covered her body with his and held her close. And as she burrowed beneath the warmth of him, his strong, powerful, better-by-the-day length, she closed her eyes again and savored this moment.

  Savored this newfound life and the man she’d decided her eternity belonged tangled up with—for always.

  The End

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  Polanski Brothers: Home of Eternal Rest

  Dakota Cassidy

  Chapter 1

  “Holy mother of all things undead. You’re really in some piss poor shape, buddy. I’m laying bets you stink,” Spencer Polanski said to the partially deteriorated body on her embalming table as she wrinkled her nose.

  Of course she wouldn’t know if the body stunk because she couldn’t smell it.

  Not a damn thing. Not even a hint of a whiff.

  She was a vampire without a very important, finely honed sense.

  The sense of smell.

  Which was how she’d gotten the job of embalmer to begin with. Plainly speaking, em
balming smelled like dirty ass times a million. Her scentless existence made her the obvious choice for the position. Unfortunately, it also made her the brunt of many vampire jokes.

  Of which she took on the chin like a champ. Hah-hah.

  Mostly, the teasing was all in love and of the good-natured variety. And it wasn’t like she was totally alone in this. She wasn’t the only vampire in her family with anomalies. Her grandfather Morris had no sense of smell either, and she had a cousin who was deathly allergic to blood.

  Yet every once in a while, the thing that bothered her the most about her scentless world, and what set her even further apart from everyone in her clan, was the legend of the Polanski’s and their mate call.

  Every Polanski, in the history of Polanski’s, had found their eternal partners via their noses.

  So how, when you were part of a clan of vampires legendary for sniffing out their life mates, were you supposed to find your Mr. Undead if you, Miss Undead, had a clinker of a nose?

  You didn’t. You hoped he’d find you.

  Soon. Please.

  Otherwise it was going to be a very long, sexless eternity. Because to add to the misery of having no sense of smell, in her clan the rule was, no sex with anyone other than your mate.

  Which might seem archaic to some—okay, to almost everyone in the twenty-first century paranormal or not—but it was the law of her people. No one broke clan law or they suffered the wrath of a good shunning.

  Being the good vampire she was, Spencer always played by the rules even while her feministic sensibilities were often at war with said rule. Did anyone really believe they’d be doomed for eternity if they had sex with someone other than their mate?

  Well, you must, because look at you—still a total virgin.

  Fair enough. A risk-taker she wasn’t.

  Though, she’d heard the wait for your clan mate was crazy worth it. She’d heard it was so earth shattering, so perfect, so right, you almost immediately stopped grudging about all those nights spent with a rechargeable vibrator named Supersonic.