by K. L. Kreig
From him, that once-loathed word was now a gentle, sweet caress.
She liked it. More than liked it.
She didn’t want it to end.
Now she just needed to find him, even if she still wasn’t sure what she was going to do with him once she did.
6
Ren
“How is your mate, my lord?”
Dev looked up from his laptop, eyeing Ren with irritation. “Have I or have I not asked you repeatedly not to call me that?”
Ren eased into the seat across from Dev, throwing an ankle on the opposite knee. “Hmmm, that sounds like a new one to me.” He bit into the shiny green apple, the bitter juice flying everywhere. A swipe of his hand on Dev’s fancy desk wiped its evidence away before Dev could jump down his throat about how expensive this piece of wood was. It was wood. From trees. There was a whole fucking forest of them right outside the front door.
“Are you trying to piss me off?” Dev retorted, eyes tracking to the smear now marring the glossy top. He held in a smartass retort, but damn it tickled to be let loose.
“Is it working?” He wagged his eyebrows playfully.
Dev laughed. It was loud and boisterous. “Fuck no. You’ll have to try harder than that, my friend. And to answer your question, Kate is good. She’s resting.” Kate was six months pregnant with their first child and Dev couldn’t be more overprotective.
Things were tenuous, teetering on the edge of war. Destruction. Possible world annihilation if they didn’t put Xavier down. Fast. The maniacal bastard had stepped up his fucking game to an all-time new level and with each new facet they uncovered, Ren became more and more concerned there would never be an end to this evil he relentlessly pursued. His greatest fear was that they’d never win. Every Lord and his respective mate was in grave danger, but with Kate pregnant, the stakes had been upped considerably. Xavier wanted this child, his grandchild. Badly. And he knew the malevolent motherfucker would stop at nothing to get to it.
Their only choice was to stop him first.
“It’s coming to a head.”
“That it is,” Dev sighed, scrubbing his face in frustration. Ren felt the anxiety his leader and friend was under. Dev had a lot of responsibility, but right now protecting Kate was his number one priority. As it should be. The fact they had to cut their honeymoon short and he had to bring her back into the hotbed of danger gutted him. And in turn, it gutted Ren.
“Do you actually think we’ll kill this fucker once and for all?”
“We must, Ren. I will not have our mates in Xavier’s sights any longer.”
Ren had hope that in just a few short days, their centuries-old nightmare would be wiped from the Earth once and for all, but they were in a holding pattern. They knew enough now to understand Xavier didn’t trust a soul, including the vampire who was supposedly his second, Geoffrey. And they were waiting for Geoffrey to produce all the information they needed to orchestrate a massive attack on all of Xavier’s compounds at once, effectively crippling him for good.
“Whatever the plan, you need to stay here with your mate. Protect her first and foremost,” Ren announced matter-of-factly.
Dev crossed his beefy arms in front of his equally beefy chest, his face now turned down into a scowl. “Under any other circumstances, I’d make sure you were painfully aware how out of line you are, friend or not.”
Yeah, Dev didn’t take too kindly to Ren trying to tell him what to do but fuck it. It was his responsibility to protect his Lord as well as his mate and unborn child. He’d never taken that duty more seriously since Dev met Kate just mere months ago. If Dev was a target before, he was doubly now since his mate was Xavier’s daughter.
“But I’d say under the circumstances you’re right.”
Ren nodded sharply, happy he didn’t have to beat Dev down with reason. “That’s settled then.”
“Only because that’s how I wish it.”
He fought the smirk that begged to curl his lip. He lost. “Of course, my lord.”
“You’re such a pain in the fucking ass, Ren.”
“I endeavor to improve daily, my lord.”
Dev chuckled darkly, shaking his head in disbelief. Dev knew he was full of shit. “On a different subject, how’s Elle?”
Ren had never seen Giselle more conflicted than she’d been these past few months since meeting Detective Mike Thatcher. Other than Dev, Ren didn’t love anyone more than Giselle. He felt intensely protective of her, like papa bear. And like a papa bear, it was his job to ensure that whoever his girl ended up with was up to snuff.
He knew immediately the first time he saw them together the human cop was Elle’s Fated mate. Knowing his intense hatred for vamps, Ren didn’t like it, but the more he saw them together and saw how she tempered and changed around him as he did around her, the more he knew Fate had chosen right for her. He’d accepted it. Now Elle had to.
“She’s fighting it.” Dev was Ren’s Joe Friday, his partner in crime in trying to push two stubborn mules together. But he’d never say that to Dev. He wasn’t even sure the Vampire Lord had seen Dragnet. Dev wasn’t much of a movie or TV buff.
His leader was quiet, contemplative. It shredded them both to watch Giselle’s inner struggle, a daily battle against her personal demons. Ren was insanely proud of the way she’d fought her way out of that hell hole, but he’d wished many times over the years that he could resurrect every male who laid a hand on her and interminably torture them instead. He’d flay them, kill them, then bring them back to start the agonizing process all over again.
“She say anything to you yet about Xavier?”
“No.” She’d stubbornly kept the events of the days in his captivity to herself, despite his gentle prodding. But one thing he did know: it had set her back as if she was standing fresh in front of them again, a strong but vulnerable twenty-year-old. Twelve decades of work vanished and Ren’s only hope to get back the Elle who had come so far, regardless of what she thought, was that fucking human. The detective was the only one who could fix her. If she would just let him.
“I worry about her.”
“So do I. She’s stronger than she gives herself credit for, but if she keeps fighting the mating bond with Thatcher, I’m afraid we may lose her for good.”
“You’re all over that, I suppose.”
“Fucking right I am. She loves him. He loves her.”
“Have a little girl time with the detective, did you? Because I know that wouldn’t have come from our Elle,” Dev joked.
Ren started laughing. “I’d say the room was thick as tar with testosterone instead. Fucker went head-to-head with me. Thought I had some nonplatonic interest in his woman.”
Dev laughed. “I’m actually somewhat impressed by his stupidity. Maybe he’s good enough for our girl.”
“I think maybe he is.” He actually fucking was. Threatening Ren was a foolish and life-ending move. He was duly impressed the thought even crossed the human’s mind to challenge a species ten times his strength. It was selfless and brimmed with possession. Elle belonged to the detective and Thatcher had made sure Ren knew. That move, right there, solidified his rightful place beside Ren’s baby girl.
“Where’s Elle now?”
Ren lobbed the core of his eaten fruit toward the silver, circular bin just inside the closed door. It landed with a dull thud inside. “Well, if my instincts are tingling right, she’s stalking her detective. But he’s gone dark, so I plan to give her a subtle nudge in the right direction.”
“You know where he is?”
“Yes. I don’t know when he’ll be back, but I know someone who does,” he winked.
Ren had always kept close tabs on the detective for many reasons, not the least of which was he knew the cop wasn’t leading their fan club. But ever since he became involved with this whole Xavier debacle, the human’s life was more in danger than ever and he’d be damned if he’d let Elle lose her mate before she had time to come to grips with what that meant
for her.
He didn’t profess to know exactly what the bonding draw felt like between a female vampire and her mate, but he knew it was different, less intense in some ways than the way a male vampire felt about his Moira. At least on the female vampire’s part. He had a feeling, though, based on how the detective went possessively green at the thought of Ren and Giselle together, that a human male felt very much the same way as a vampire male: enthralled, fiercely protective, and pull-your-hair frustrated at the challenge their Moiras present at every turn.
“One final thing.” His voice sobered, getting Dev’s attention. When Dev nodded for him to continue, he added, “I have another lead on Siobhan.”
His powerful ruler bristled, jaw clenching, eyes darkening in rage at the name of the vampire who had tested them for over a century. The one he had secretly stepped up efforts to find since Elle found her Fated. He may not know yet whether he trusted that twisted fuck, but Geoffrey was a wealth of information on the depraved, that’s for sure. Ren was going to enlist his help if they both made it through the upcoming battle with Xavier.
“We can’t afford to be without you right now. Not when we’re this close to putting Xavier down, Ren. I’m sorry.” Dev looked genuinely conflicted. He knew as well as Ren this was the one final piece Elle needed to put her past completely underground. Pun intended.
Her perpetrator was out there running around, free from punishment for his wrongdoings. That battered at the psyche of even the strongest survivors. He needed to right that ship. For Elle, but also for the many females that demented fuck no doubt had likely degraded and ruined as badly as his girl.
“I know. But after that’s done, he’s mine. Just wanted to give you a heads up that I may be gone for a few days. I’ll be sure Thane and Manny will step in to cover me.”
“You know Elle wants that pleasure.” Dev eyed him cautiously. Yeah, Giselle had made no bones about the fact this was her kill, her right and Ren should butt the fuck out of her business. But this vampire was one depraved animal. Ren was confident in Elle’s fighting skills, yet if for some reason the tables turned and Siobhan got his hands on her…well, that wasn’t an option. And it had zero chance of happening if he took care of the bastard himself. He’d suffer Giselle’s wrath a thousand times over if it kept her safe.
Shrugging, he replied, “She’ll get over it.”
“It’s your manhood.”
“Not worried,” he feigned as his nuts recoiled tightly in trepidation. Ren rose with ease, his muscular thighs flexing with the weight of his bulk. Once they rescued Xavier’s current victims and he ended Siobhan’s pathetic existence, he had another idea to get Giselle back to the land of the living. It would make her uncomfortable and she would fight it tooth and nail, but he was more and more convinced this would be the push she needed. But this command would have to come from Dev or otherwise he was certain he’d be looking longingly at his dick in a glass jar for the next five hundred years. And he had plans for his junk that did not include fermenting. First order of business, though, he had a stubborn couple to join. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some matchmaking to do.”
“Just call you Dr. Love. Hey, you should start your own Internet dating site. That’s pretty damn big with humans, you know. Lucrative, too. You can call it FindMoira.com,” Dev quipped as he left, laughter following him out.
Ren flipped him the finger, along with a loud curse in case Dev didn’t get the full picture, but at the same time thought, Hey, that’s not a half-bad idea. With everyone he cared about falling like saplings in a strong wind, he wondered if it wasn’t time for him to take fate into his own two very capable hands and find his own elusive Moira.
And all this sickening happiness was apparently starting to fuck with his common sense. Not that he was against a Moira; he just hadn’t given his abstract vision of her much thought until lately.
But that was a problem for another day; he had other shit to take care of.
First: Talk to Jake Keller, Thatcher’s old partner. Find out when the detective would blow back in town.
Second: Give Elle a subtle push in the direction of said love-struck detective.
Third: Kill Xavier.
Fourth: Kill Siobhan.
Fifth: Nut protection. Despite how cocky he acted with Dev, he was slightly worried how Giselle would react when he dropped Siobhan’s bloody, severed head outside her bedroom door.
Sixth: Put part two of Project Elle into motion.
Fucking hell. Guess finding his Moira would just have to wait a bit longer. Isn’t that always the way? That’s why, after over five hundred years, he was still alone. There was always something more important to do.
7
Mike
He arrived at this shithole well ahead of Jake, having driven back from Des Plaines, Illinois early this afternoon. Not wanting to sit in an empty house and stare at four bleak walls that would only remind him of everything he’d lost and all he didn’t yet have, he’d opted for drinking and avoidance instead. Sipping on his warm draft while waiting, Mike remembered the day’s events.
He’d spent a couple more hours after meeting Bud Clark and his unmarried daughter, Brynne, chatting it up with them. He’d been dying to say something about Sarah. Let them know they had another relative alive and thriving, but he’d refrained. He wanted to discuss it with Giselle first. He wasn’t sure what the next step was supposed to be after they’d found her family. If it was anything short of reuniting them, Mike would have something to say about that shit and he’d go down swingin’.
Like all the women kidnapped by Xavier, Sarah had been through hell. And if she wanted to find her long-lost family—her real family—then, by God, that’s what he’d make sure happened. He didn’t know the particulars of Sarah’s ordeal, but ten seconds in the presence of that sadistic evil bastard was ten seconds too long. And like Mike, she’d lost so much because of that sick motherfucker.
After getting over the stun of how much Brynne mirrored Sarah, he couldn’t help but let his thoughts drift to Jamie. How he’d failed her. Even though it felt good to finally have one tiny win in his corner by finding Sarah’s biological family, guilt gnawed his insides bloody and raw.
Jamie may not be dead, but Dev was right about one thing. She would never be the same. He saw it in her haunted eyes that were filled with untold horrors she could never scrub. Even bleach couldn’t touch that shit.
Mike hadn’t seen Jamie since that day at Dev’s several weeks ago. It seemed like lifetimes ago. Would she ask to see him again? If she did, would he hesitate, knowing just the sight of him caused her unbearable anguish?
“I think that’s why it took me so long to see you.” Her eyes lifted to his again, the sadness in them heartbreaking. “Because I now associate you with them.”
He still felt that crushing blow sitting hard and heavy on his chest. Guilt weighed him down. The only time it seemed to abate was when his foul-mouthed vixen was around. When Jamie crushed him to pieces with her unintentionally hurtful words that day in Dev’s mansion, Giselle silently picked them up and put them back together again with her selflessness. When she’d wrapped her arms around him, he’d clung to her, needing her and every bit of strength she’d given him in those few moments.
Giselle gave him things he never thought possible. Her matching rage seemed to cancel his out. She soothed his soul, his constant burn, his aching need for revenge. She showed him there was more.
Most importantly and most surprisingly, she gave him hope.
Hope for a future.
Hope for contentment and love.
Fucking in love with a vampire. Who would have thought? Before he met Giselle, he would have slit his own throat at the horrific thought.
Only there was no denying it. Just thinking of the snarky blonde nymph made his lips curl, his heart beat for the first time in years, and his cock rock hard. Her body was sway and seduction. Fluidity with a heavy dose of sin and a giant fuck-you. She was the perfect combina
tion of sensuality, strength, and fragility.
And she was simply impossible to ignore or forget.
After all these months of fighting what was burning hot between them, that battle was old and weary. He was done with it, but he had a new battle on his hands before he could claim victory.
Her.
He’d gotten himself over the goddamned mountain of denial and excuses. Now, he needed to hike back over and drag her fine ass back with him. And he’d do it. Kicking and fucking screaming, she would be his.
But that was a balancing act he was not familiar with. When Mike wanted something, he took it. When he thought something, he said it. He was as straightforward and brash as they came. With Giselle, though, he knew if he made one wrong move, she’d disappear on him. Just like Ren had warned.
Maybe this time for good.
He was mentally readying himself for the war ahead, but he also needed a fucking breather from the work that was Giselle. And let’s be honest…his pride still smarted from her vanishing act in the middle of the fucking night, like he was a Coyote Ugly or something.
“Hey, why do you look like your pet just died?” His old partner’s voice pierced his thoughts.
Looking up from his now-ruined brew, he answered Jake flippantly, “I don’t have a fucking pet.” Well, he did but she was far more work than the four-legged kind.
“You need one.” The legs of the chair scraped across the worn wooden floor as he pulled it out and took a seat.
“No time.”
“Yeah, cuz you’re so fucking busy.”
He was. He was expending a tremendous amount of energy prying his woman’s fingers from the pillar of stubbornness so he could get her in his bed and keep her in his life.
“When are you coming back?” Jake asked. Same question, different day. Since he’d taken his “leave of absence” several months back, they’d met up regularly to shoot the shit and throw back a few beers. They’d hung out occasionally when they were partners but hadn’t socialized too often, and he now had to wonder why he hadn’t let Jake in before now.
