King of Khoth: (Dark Warrior Alliance Book 9)

by Brenda Trim

  On second thought, he hated the dizziness. He was a fucking Vampire Prince and was holding onto a sticky bar table to keep his balance.

  “You’re hammered, and I’m not going anywhere with you. Next time, B,” Candace called out as she turned and walked away.

  Fuck her. He wasn’t all that interested, anyway. Her and her nasty-ass hair. He hated that wavy shit. It reminded him of Pasha.

  Bhric stumbled past a group of supernaturals, and one of the males bumped into him. Or maybe he did the bumping, but Bhric didn’t care. He was in the mood to start some shit. “What the fuck? You assed out, motherfucker,” he snarled and threw his helmet to the floor then pushed the male.

  Bhric watched as the male fell against a barstool. “Dude! What’s your problem? You stumbled into me. You need to sober up before you drive anywhere or you’re going to kill somebody,” the male spouted off.

  The jackass was begging for an ass-whipping. Bhric balled up his fist and pulled back to let it fly when a soft hand landed on his arm. Looking down, he saw it belonged to a tiny female. Her black wings fluttered so fast Bhric could barely see them, telling him the Harpy was pissed.

  “Check yourself, Vampire, or you’ll regret it. Between the two of us, you’ll be lucky to walk out of here,” the Harpy spat, picking up his helmet and thrusting it at him. Her yellow eyes glared daggers at Bhric.

  Bhric threw up a hand in defense, and looked at the couple. “Fine, I’m leaving. We have a treaty with the Harpies and shifters, and I willna fuck it up. My brathair has enough to bitch aboot, and that’s before he learns of my indiscretions.”

  Bhric heard the couple whisper as he walked away, wondering if he’d fallen victim to bloodlust. He wasn’t addicted to anything but good ole Jim Beam. Or Grey Goose. Or Patron, he thought, and laughed.

  Bhric’s shoulder hit the doorjamb as he walked out of the bar, and he barked out a curse. He’d nearly lost the arm a year ago when demons attacked the Dark Warriors outside Confetti. It hung by a single tendon, but Jace worked his magic and reattached the limb.

  Bhric made a mental note to take the sorcerer out for a drink to thank him again. He’d be worthless to the warriors if he lost his arm. Vampires could survive everything short of losing their heads, but they couldn’t regenerate limbs.

  He spotted Roxy under the streetlight where he parked. The Seattle mist sparkled under the moonlight, and covered his shiny toy. After a near miss with a metal post, and tripping into every pothole in the lot, Bhric made it to his baby. He ran his hands over her curves. She was smooth power in a sexy shell. His Tomahawk was the only female he wanted. Too bad she didn’t come with a suction mode. If she did, his life would be complete.

  Bhric swung a leg over his bike, and his face hit the gas tank. Nope, he wasn’t drunk. He always greeted his favorite girl with a kiss. A push of the ignition, and a twist of his hand, and she roared to life. Her rumble was music to his ringing ears.

  With a punch to the gas, he hit the road and opened the throttle. The light rain pelted his face, trumping the dizziness, and the wind carried his troubles away. He took a few turns then hit the freeway at top speed.

  When Bhric rode Roxy, his life wasn’t a disaster. He could pretend his parents weren’t slaughtered by demons when he was a toddler. The memory of holding Breslin as they cried in the darkness of a hidden room faded away. And Zander’s gut-wrenching scream was drowned out by the sound of the machine between his legs.

  His brother was a sanctimonious bastard, but he was the smartest and most powerful being alive. And, he’d raised Bhric and their siblings after their parent’s murder. Zander was more a father to him than a brother.

  The first lesson Zander taught him was that every choice carried consequences. Bhric wished he’d paid more fucking attention to his advice. Maybe then his life wouldn’t be fucked beyond recognition. Damn, he needed another drink.

  Patting his leather jacket while steering one-handed, Bhric found his stash. A twist of his thumb and the flask hit his lips. The scotch burned going down but delivered sweet relief.

  Suddenly, the bike hit a large dip in the road, and his flask hit the pavement. Bhric grabbed both handlebars, trying to steady his bike. Roxy was a fickle bitch, evading his control, and the front wheel slipped and slid across the wet pavement. When he hit another ditch in the cement, Bhric sailed through the air, ass over end.

  “Fuck,” he snarled as he pulled his body tight, preparing for impact. All he could hope was to minimize the damage to his bike, and him.

  He landed on the street and skidded. He looked over to see sparks flew as Roxy scraped along the asphalt. His leather jacket shredded, along with a large chunk of flesh on his right side. Pain tore through him as muscle loosened from bone and he hit a tree with a sickening crunch.

  “Nay, Goddess, dammit!” Bhric wailed. Several deep breaths and Bhric pushed to a sitting position, groaning in pain. A quick scan told him his arm was still attached, but he had the worst case of road rash he’d ever seen.

  Luckily, Jace could heal him. His arm protested when he went to his hands and knees, attempting to stand up.

  The world swam again as he stood and walked over to pick up Roxy. Bhric couldn’t tell if he had a concussion, or not. Nausea assailed, and his alcohol threatened to expel, but he swallowed the urge. No way he would vomit like a pussy.

  Taking stock, he noted Roxy has a serious dent, and was missing paint down one side. Looked like his new ride would be taking a trip to the repair shop. He prayed the engine didn’t have any damage because the last thing he wanted to do was call Zeum for a ride home. Bhric swung his leg, but missed the seat of the bike. He landed on his ass with Roxy on top of him.

  “Shite,” he snapped and battled dizziness and nausea once again.

  Headlights cast a sheet of light on him and Roxy, and he lifted a hand to block the glare. The car slowed and came to stop.

  “Hey, you okay?” asked an older woman. It was a human couple, and she looked extremely concerned. Bhric imagined he looked half-dead to them.

  “Aye, I’m good. Just a wee tumble. Thank you for stopping,” Bhric answered and waved them off.

  “Are you sure? We can give you a lift to the hospital,” she offered and stepped out of the car.

  Bhric couldn’t go to a human hospital. He would heal right before the doctor’s eyes, and that was something he didn’t care to explain.

  “Nay, I’m good. Really. Thank you, and have a good evening,” Bhric replied and quickly sobered as adrenaline dumped into his system.

  “Well, alright. If you insist. Thank Heaven you had on your helmet, sonny. Probably saved your life,” the female said then got back into her vehicle.

  Bhric waved as they drove away, thinking humans were kind beings, which was why the Dark Warriors protected them from the malevolent demons that plagued Earth.

  He looked back to Roxy and prayed again that she started. He didn’t need another human stopping to assist him. He pushed the ignition, and Roxy hummed. Thank fuck.

  With a twist of the handlebars, he squealed off and headed for home. Luckily, Zeum wasn’t far, and minutes later, he was pulling through the gate.

  He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Jace’s car parked off to the side. Bhric parked and climbed off the bike. Nate opened the front door as he hit the stairs.

  “Looks like someone tangled with a disgruntled female,” Nate joked.

  “Fuck off, dragon. Where’s Jace?” Bhric retorted as he limped through the doorway.

  Fire burned along his injury, and Bhric grabbed his side to stifle the pain. To make matters worse, his buzz was gone, and he needed a drink something fierce.

  Spices and little girl’s laughter greeted him as he entered the home. He could hear Elsie in the kitchen, and Cailyn and Izzy were with her. Zeum was the only real home he’d ever known. They moved around a lot when he was a stripling, living in dusty, damp castles in the old country before coming to America and settling in Seattle.

&nbs
p; “What the fuck happened to you?” Breslin interjected as she and Zander walked out of the war room. Just his luck. The two people he’d hoped to avoid until he was healed.

  As Vampire King, Zander had the power to make his life a living hell, but as his brother, Zander’s disapproval shredded his insides. “You’re drunk,” Zander accused.

  Bhric balled his hands into a fist, ignoring the stab of pain. He’d pummel that condemnatory tone right out of his brother’s voice.

  “You shouldna be driving that fucking bike when you’re drinking. How many times do I need to say this? You could kill yourself, and anyone else. What the hell were you thinking?” Zander scolded, his blue eyes darkening with his rage.

  “Clearly he wasna, brathair. Did you even stop to think you could’ve killed yourself, or others? Do you no’ care for anyone but yourself?” Breslin divulged as she stood there, hands on her hips.

  “I doona have time for a lecture. Where’s Jace? I need him to heal me,” Bhric replied as he tried to maneuver past his brother.

  Zander pushed him, making him spin around and fall to his ass. Bhric jumped up, stumbled into Nate, and nearly knocked Breslin down before he gathered his footing.

  “Jace willna be healing you, brathair. You’ve fucked up one too many times. You are suspended from your duties until you sober up,” Zander announced.

  Anger exploded at hearing Zander’s words. How could his brother take what little good he had in his life when he was hanging on by a thread? “Fuck you, Z, and you, too, Bre. My drinking isna a problem. I will do my duty to the Goddess, regardless of what you say.”

  “No’ happening, Bhric. I willna have another rogue on my hands. Your position is deferred until you prove to me you can control your addiction. And, your drinking is a problem. You miss meetings, nearly disclosed our existence to humans more than once, and now, you almost kill yourself,” Zander explained with a scowl. Disgust and disappointment crossed Zander’s face, and that hurt more than the words spilling from his mouth.

  “I need to get healed, and then you can bitch at me all you like, brathair,” Bhric countered through gritted teeth. The pain was intensifying and making his vision waver.

  “Nay, brathair. You are no’ going to be healed from this,” Breslin snarled as tears brimmed in her eyes. “I’ve had enough of you hurting this family. You have a problem, Bhric. I never thought I’d watch my brathair become an addict, but I canna deny what is right in front of my face. You need help, and I canna sit by while you destroy your life,” Breslin said and wiped the tears that escaped.

  His sister turned and walked away, and Bhric felt something inside break. Breslin was his twin. There wasn’t anyone he was closer to, and she was abandoning him. He thought she would always be there for him, but she was just like their parents, leaving him to deal with his problems alone.

  “Get your shite together, Bhric, or you will be oot of Zeum, too. And, I’m serious. No patrolling. Doona push me on this. You willna like what happens,” Zander warned before he stalked off, as well.

  Bhric stood in the vast entryway to the one place that used to be his sanctuary. Fuck them if they didn’t give a shit about his pain and suffering. He didn’t have a problem with alcohol. He had a problem with a vile fucking female out to destroy him.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Angus wondered if the torc he’d eaten was spoiled. His stomach gurgled again, and he questioned if he was going to hurl his meal. The Civappu was about to begin, and this was not the time to get sick.

  Dyson warned him that his system might not take well to the food on Khoth after subsisting on Earth meals for so long. Mack told him it was complete bullshit because she hadn’t gotten sick during her visit to his realm. Angus hadn’t had one hint of trouble until now.

  “Yo,” Legette called out as he approached from the side of the clearing. “You look like a kippie caught in a trap. Nervous about the ceremony?”

  Angus tilted his head and crossed his arms over his chest. What was the male talking about? He wasn’t nervous. They’d done everything in their power to make sure the Civappu went off without a hitch.

  “Nay, I’m no’ nervous. Och, I think I’ve been too lax with you, my friend. Doona forget I am still the King, and insults are punishable by death,” Angus snapped and clamped down on his lips, trying to control his nausea.

  “No they’re not,” Legette replied with a snort. “They’re not even punishable by time in the dungeons. What’s going on with you? If you’re worried about Cyril, I don’t think he’ll attack tonight. We are well defended, and my guess is, he hasn’t healed from his injury yet. We will eliminate any of his spawn if they come close to Heqet,” Legette replied.

  “I apologize, my friend. I havena done this in over a thousand years,” Angus relayed as sweat broke across his forehead. Who was he kidding? He was nervous as hell. Had he become a soft marshmallow while in the Tehrex Realm?

  “No, you haven’t, and I for one am anxious to have this hurdle behind us. My dragon is starving, but my gut won’t settle long enough to let me eat,” Legette complained. “The apex of the moon can’t come soon enough.”

  Angus clapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder and squeezed. He appreciated Legette’s support. “We’re almost ready,” Angus acknowledged as his eyes traveled to Keira who was talking to a group of jittery females. It would seem the entire realm had cold feet about the event.

  Angus admitted he couldn’t have done this without Keira’s help. After his announcement about self-defense classes, Angus doubted the support of his people, including his Maáhes and Mundunugu. The entire kingdom was in an uproar over his proclamation of training females.

  When a mere three females showed up for the first class, he was convinced it was going to fail. Keira scolded him for his lack of faith in her plan and went to the shopping district the following afternoon. From Lorne’s account, she’d had a cup of Nolan’s famous coffee, went shopping for new shoes with her own money (courtesy of her new job title, Head of Female Defense), and chatted with citizens about the latest trends, their favorite smoothie flavor, and the dress she should wear to the Tuya ceremony. The following week, the class overflowed the main gym and was even larger the next week.

  On the downside, fathers stalked Legette to file their complaints, mothers brought tributes to the castle every hour, and overzealous females were cold-cocking males left and right, courtesy their newfound confidence.

  The kingdom seemed to be in a state of chaos, but Declan assured Angus he hadn’t seen this much hope in his lifetime. It lifted a measure of the guilt Angus carried around about abandoning his realm so many years ago.

  His eyes remained fixated on Keira. As if she felt his stare, she turned her head his way. Turquoise eyes sparkled, and she winked before turning back to her conversation. His little water serpent was at ease and comfortable in her new role. She hadn’t embraced Angus’s desire to mate, but the sight of her stepping up and guiding the females of his kingdom had his chin high and chest thrust outward. He was one lucky sonavabitch.

  She was a permanent part of the Cuelebre people now. They trusted her and sought her advice. Watching her interact with them, Angus knew in his heart she belonged by his side.

  He continued to stare her way. Keira’s new black dress fit her like a glove. The slit up the side gave Angus an enticing view of her long muscular leg before stopping at her upper thigh. His fists clenched as desire coursed through his body. Angus’s hands itched to caress the flesh exposed, and his tongue craved a taste of areas concealed.

  His shaft went rock hard, and a smile tipped one side of her mouth when she noticed his reaction. He motioned her over, enjoying the sway of her hips as she walked towards him.

  “You look good enough to eat, Turquoise,” he greeted, and picked up one of her hands, placing a kiss on the back of it. He let his lips linger, enjoying the heat that burned between them. Lava flowed thick and sultry in her veins as her ocean scent and arousal thickened.

&
nbsp; “You say the sweetest things. I bet you have all the females eating out of the palm of your hand. Is that how you filled the gym for self-defense classes?” Keira asked playfully.

  “That was all your work, love. I didna do a thing. And, the only one I want eating oot of my palm is you, especially, when your tongue licks that certain spot,” he husked.

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you weren’t talking about your palm, Hotness,” she whispered in his ear then licked the shell.

  “Watch oot or that new dress will become a pile of tattered cloth when I rip it from your sexy body. You’re driving me insane tonight,” Angus confessed and pulled her against the hard line of his body.

  “Mmm, tempting, but I think you have pressing matters to tend to,” Keira murmured as he kissed across her jaw and down her neck.

  Angus glanced around and noticed no one was paying them much attention. He grabbed Keira’s hand and placed it over his straining erection. “This pressing matter wants to drag you off into the woods,” he groaned and rocked his hips against her palm.

  Keira squeezed, and he growled his pleasure. “Save that for later. Oh…and by the way…I’m not wearing any panties,” she murmured as Legette approached the two of them.

  “Are they ready?” Angus croaked, as his mind splintered at Keira’s comment. Little sphynx that she was, tormenting him like that. Angus had plans for her later that would involve her begging for mercy.

  “Yes, Sire, they are terrified about tonight’s results, but they are more than ready. All of Khoth is excited about the Civappu,” Legette declared and clasped Angus’s shoulder.

  “And, we are more than armed for battle, should we need to fight. It helps to have big fucking lizards as guards,” Keira added as she waved to a couple standing on the outskirts of the clearing.

  “Doona let Lorne and Blaine hear you call them lizards,” Angus warned with a smile. “And, what’s with colorful language? Seems Mack has rubbed off on you.”