Harem of Fangs

by Emma Dawn

  HAREM OF FANGS

  EMMA DAWN

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Text copyright © 2017 Emma Dawn

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  ISBN: 1544934890

  ISBN 13: 9781544934891

  Note of Thanks

  I would like to thank those who are taking a chance on a new author. Your support, reviews and encouragement mean a whole lot to me, more than I can ever truly thank you for. This story and those that follow are for those who believe that love can transcend the norms, and that you never know when it might jump up and bite you in the ass. Enjoy!

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter One

  I rubbed my hands over my face, the computer screen blurring a little, the words warping into an unreadable mess. A sigh of air slid from me. “Novel isn’t going to write itself,” I muttered under my breath, as I stared at the blank page with nothing but a blinking cursor to show for my efforts. I just needed a break, a vacation, anything to get a chance to find my passion again.

  Luke lifted his head from his spot on the couch next to me, yawned, and curled his tail around his face once more so I only saw a glimmer of his Husky-dog baby blues before they closed tightly.

  “Some help you are. You’re supposed to be staying awake with me, Luke.” I stretched and glanced at the clock. One a.m. Deadline for final edits was tomorrow and I still had over fifty pages to go in order to wrap it up. My publisher would not be happy if I was late with the manuscript.

  But my mind wasn’t on the task at hand because today was an anniversary that a year ago would have had me broken and heaving sobs on the floor. Yet, here I was working on a paranormal romance, no less, with zero tears and not a single sob.

  I leaned over and touched the framed picture of my ex-fiancé. “A year since you left me. Can you believe it, Mike? A whole year, and here I am, still alive. Doing better than ever without your sorry, cheating ass.”

  Some people called it ridiculous that I kept a picture of him. For me, though, every time I saw it, I was reminded that if he hadn’t left me high and dry, I would never have gotten out of the rut my life had become. Him leaving me for that skanky, man-stealing, older than she looked and fatter than she claimed, Wanda, had shown me I still had a lot of life to live. “Just watch me, Mike. I’m going to get this book done, and I’m going to be rolling in good reviews, and readers who love me.” I flicked his face with a finger, wishing it was more like a voodoo doll that would transfer the pain.

  I looked away from his face, from the smile that had at one point been my entire world. A smile I thought would become a part of our future children’s facial features. I shook my head and looked back to the screen. Fifty pages, I could do this.

  Hands once more on the keyboard, the words began to flow. One thousand, two thousand words...ten pages, fifteen, twenty. I checked the clock. Three a.m.

  I pushed to my feet and stretched my back, pressing my knuckles into my lower spine.

  If not for Mike’s betrayal, thirty-eight would have been my best year yet.

  “No, it was my best year.” I nodded, pushing away the hurt that still lingered, here and there. While it was an effort to build my confidence back, I’d done it with the help of my close circle of friends that consisted of my bestie, Cassie, and my little sister, Dominique.

  My books had taken off under my pen name, and I’d paid off all the debt Mike and I had accrued over the years. I’d lost that extra twenty pounds I’d carried since forever, and I’d made myself try something new every other month. Skydiving, pottery, archery, karate, salsa dancing, and the list went on. I’d even ridden a donkey to the bottom of the Grand Canyon with Cassie the month before. She cursed me for it, and both of us were sore for days, but to me, it had been totally worth it.

  Still, there was an emptiness that had blossomed in my chest since Mike left, and it hovered at the edges of everything I did. The belief that maybe he was right to leave me, that I wasn’t worth any man’s time, was still there despite the work I’d put into myself.

  My cell phone buzzed with an incoming text. The phone rattled so hard, it jumped to the edge of the table, and I caught it just before it dropped to the hardwood floor.

  The name at the top of the text did not surprise me, but it did make me sad. Cassie was forever drinking and texting me in the middle of the night. I wasn’t the only one trying to find my way after a shitty relationship.

  A frown dipped between my brows as I read the text.

  At Tink’s bar. Please come get me.

  Like me, Cassie was no longer attached to a man. Unlike me, it had been her choice, and a smart one at that. Peter had been messing around on her for a year. Unfortunately, the breakup had left Cassie vulnerable and a bit on the dangerous side when it came to men. Worse, she’d taken a job that, while high-paying and keeping her in top shape, was almost as dangerous as her choice in men.

  She was a skydiver during the day and a karate instructor at night. Hence my lessons in both.

  “Cassie, what are you doing now?” I asked as I typed a quick reply that I was on my way.

  Sighing, I tucked the phone into my back pocket and headed for the stairs that led into the basement, and my little sister’s suite. After Mike left, she moved in because she wanted to take care of me. At least, that was what she said.

  I did my best not to point out that she was homeless at the time, and jobless, and pretty much a slug when it came to making any sort of an effort to change either of those things. All she did was sleep, which made me wonder if she was struggling with depression. Not the first time to consider that path, I found myself making a note to get her to the doctor. Even if I had to drag her.

  I knocked on her door, then let myself in. “Dominique, I’m going out to get Cassie from the bar. I shouldn’t be long.”

  “Ally?” She waved a hand at me and barely lifted her head. Her features were so close to mine, we could have been twins in our coloring. Blond hair and blue-green eyes that were sometimes labeled as turquoise. I smiled at her, the tousled look, and for a moment I could see her as a kid again. Only a few years younger than me, she was anything but a kid. But I would always be older and she would always be my responsibility.

  “Yeah, that’s my name,” I said. “I’ll be back soon, okay?”

  She yawned, closed her eyes and snuggled back into the couch cushions. I rolled my eyes at her ability to just drop off like that. A talent I wished I had. I tossed a blanket over her prone form, flicked off the light beside the couch, and headed out to my car.

  The drive to Tink’s took a little under half an hour, and the light rain on the roads kept me doing the speed limit like a good girl. New England in the winter was dodgy at best, especially here, this close to the mountains. It wouldn’t be long before we’d be k
nee-deep in snow, if the dropping temperatures were any indication.

  Pulling up to the bar, I peered through the rain that was no longer light, but coming down in buckets that splatted my windshield. “Awesome, just flipping awesome, Cassie. Why couldn’t you have done this on a summer’s night?”

  I foolishly had not brought a coat, thinking I had one in the front seat. That’s what I got for having a garage attached to the house. I’d climbed into the car wearing nothing more than a T-shirt and loose pajama bottoms. In part, because silly me had thought Cassie would be smart enough to be waiting outside.

  I was never going to learn when it came to my friend.

  With a huff, I slid out of the car, threw one arm over my head and rushed toward the building. I stepped in no less than two puddles, and I cursed them both as they soaked my pant legs almost to my knees.

  I hit the bar door at full speed, and flung it open wide. The heavy wooden door banged against the wall with a thunderous boom that echoed in the empty space.

  Empty space? I took a step and then another, as I wiped the rain from my face. While it was late, the bar should have still had a few patrons left, a few hangers-on. Tink’s never really shut down. Where was Bobby-Jo the bouncer, and Earl, the old guy who all but lived here? I didn’t think either of them actually had a home, but lived in the bar itself.

  Yet, they weren’t here, and the place was empty. As empty as a tomb holding the secrets of the dead...I shivered and wrapped my arms around my middle.

  Stupid writer brain just had to go there, didn’t you? I thought.

  I cleared my throat, and squared my shoulders. “Cassie, where are you?”

  There was silence for a heartbeat, and then a voice that was most certainly not Cassie’s answered me.

  “Ahhh, so you are the friend she called on. Lovely; we were thinking you might not come.”

  The voice was velvety soft, distinctly masculine, and maybe another time, I would have thought it sexy as all get-out. But I was thirty-eight and tired of men and their stupid games, and their desire to prove how big and strong they were. I did not need this shit.

  I fought not to roll my eyes. Ah, forget it, let them roll.

  “Where is my friend?” I did a complete spin as I worked my way deeper into the club. The funny thing about losing Mike was that instead of feeling afraid of life as I had before, instead of turning from anything that even remotely scared me, I tended now to run toward it. Which might have explained the fancy new muscle car I was driving and the intense love of skydiving.

  A part of my brain tried to tell me I was being dangerously stupid by staying in the bar, that I needed to stop moving deeper into the place. That I needed to just...stop, to turn around and run.

  I couldn’t seem to make my body obey my brain. Besides, Cassie was here, and she was my friend. I wasn’t leaving her behind, not because my overactive imagination was placing all sorts of unhelpful images in the front of my brain.

  Dead bodies.

  Ghosts.

  Ax murderers.

  Twisted mutants come down from the hills.

  Nope, I wasn’t falling for my own imagination this time. My feet kept on going until I was in the middle of the dance floor. I put my hands on my hips and called out.

  “Cassie, you get your ass end out here, right now, or I’m leaving without you. I mean it!”

  No one answered. I mean, no one said anything. There wasn’t even a response from that velvety voice from before. Instead, my answer came slowly in a physical form.

  A group of men circled me from the shadows, step after step. Each was cloaked in darkness, their faces hidden by hoods or by the shadows from the few lights left on in the club.

  Fear should have been racing down my spine. I should have been running for the doors, and for sure, a year past I would have been. That was the old me, though, and I was done with fear.

  I arched an eyebrow and shifted my stance so I was better balanced—thank you to my whopping four karate lessons. I faced the man closest to me. “Really? This is how you want tonight to go? Because I’m telling you right now, I do not have the patience for this shit. Not tonight. Not ever. I will kick your ass and hand it to one of your friends in pieces.”

  The figure closest stepped forward. The velvety voice was the one from when I’d first stepped into the bar.

  “Most assuredly, woman, you will fall at my feet and beg me for my manhood to pierce you.”

  I burst out laughing, unable to contain my mirth at what had to be the most ridiculous line of shit I’d ever heard.

  “Dude, is that the best you’ve got, because I’ve heard, and read, better. And I’ve read a lot of super cheesy romance books. Research, you know.” I took a big breath, held up a hand and pointed a single finger at him. “I do not know what you are on, but there will be no begging out of this pretty little mouth.” I then pointed at my lips for good measure. “No more games. Where is my friend?” I did a half-turn away from him, and the other men who circled me grumbled and more than one gasped.

  “Did she just deny Malcom?”

  “That’s not possible.”

  “But there it is.”

  A few more mutterings along those lines. I rolled my eyes and started toward the guy they named Malcom. “Listen, get out of my way, Malcom. If you aren’t going to tell me where she is, I’ll find her myself.”

  I put my hand on his chest as I got close and gave him a light shove. At least, that was the plan. He was built like a damn brick shithouse, solid and unmovable like his feet were cemented into the floor. More than that, though, was the pure shot of electricity between us that made us both suck in a sharp breath. Pretty, yes, he was very pretty with his light blond hair cut close to his head, and the blue eyes that reminded me of cornflowers. But pretty did not equate nice in my books. Nor did electrical impulses that I damn well knew were a bad idea.

  “Come on, now, don’t be difficult. It’s late and I want to get some sleep tonight at some point.” I tried to shove him again, doing my best to ignore a second flash of skin-tingling heat.

  Nothing. He didn’t move, not even a single inch.

  I frowned. “Seriously, get the hell out of my way, man.”

  “Suck my balls.” He whispered the words as if they would somehow seduce me on the spot, low and breathy as he leaned toward me. I will admit, my mouth dropped open a little, probably giving him the wrong idea of just what the words had done to me.

  “What did you say?” I spluttered.

  “I said suck my—”

  I rammed my knee up and gave his balls something to think about. “Worst pickup line, ever.” I threw the words at him as I shoved him—easily now—aside.

  He went to the floor with a groan and the other men in the room laughed, a ripple of sound that rose and fell as it moved through them, tickling along the edge of my spine in a not-unpleasant way. I almost turned back to them.

  Almost, but I contained the urge.

  With a shiver, I hurried to the back where the washroom was located, assuming Cassie would be there. If not there, maybe the manager’s office. The lights in the hallway that led to the washrooms were dim, and I slipped twice on spilled beer. I wrinkled my nose. Thank God, I was no longer that young and stupid to not only drink until I was completely soused, but also to think men like that douche Malcom could talk to me as if anything he said would be acceptable. What? Because he was a man? Because he had a dick and a tiny pair of marbles? Please.

  What a complete and total shithead.

  I put my hand to the washroom door and shoved it open. I saw her feet and her five-inch heels before I saw anything else. Slouched in a corner, Cassie was slumped over her cell phone. Her chest rose and fell in an even beat. I shook my head as I hurried to her side, and crouched next to her.

  “Cassie, come on, hon. I’ll take you home. You can stay at my place tonight, okay?” I put a hand to her face, and tipped her chin up.

  Blood coated her neck. I gasped. “What happene
d to you?”

  “Bit me. Felt so fucking good. So. Good.” She whispered the words, her dark brown eyes staring at me under a haze of alcohol. “Wanted you to feel the same. You deserve to feel good, Ally. You deserve it.”

  My gorge rose at the sight of the blood. I pushed to my now-wobbling feet and hurried to the sink. I grabbed paper towels, went back to Cassie and pressed the wad of paper to her neck.

  “We’ve got to get you out of here,” I whispered, for the first time truly realizing the danger we could be in. A group of five men, and the two of us, one of whom was pretty much useless if it came to a fight. Not that I would be much better. Losing weight with Zumba and salsa dancing did not make one a fighter. Fit, yes. Fighting skills? Not so much.

  The creak of a floorboard outside the bathroom door had me on feet in a flash. I leapt to the door and threw the deadbolt lock on it. Maybe it wouldn’t be much, but it could buy us the time we needed to call the police. I dropped back to Cassie’s side and took her phone, dialing 9-1-1.

  The operator picked up right away. “9-1-1, what is your emergency?”

  “I’m at Tink’s bar with my friend. She’s been cut badly on the neck...” I didn’t for one minute think she’d been bitten. She’d had an unhealthy obsession with vampires for years, “and had lost a lot of blood. The men who did it are in the club still and we are locked in the bathroom.”

  I spoke quickly, my words as clear and concise as I could make them, and yet...

  “Could you repeat that?”

  “Tink’s bar. Injured woman. Roving maniacs outside bathroom door.” The words were about as hard as I could make them and still whisper.

  The door of the bathroom suddenly shuddered as if a body had been thrown into it. I couldn’t help the squeak that slipped from my lips. “Hurry. Please!”

  “What bar?”

  “Oh, for God’s sake! Tink’s bar on Henrietta Ave!”

  The operator did the most unprofessional thing I could have possibly imagined in that moment, and if she’d worked for me I would have fired her on the spot.