by Dakota Dawn
When the chanting man came at him again, he kicked the guy in the face with his good leg. Teeth went flying and the guy went down. In serious pain, Pierce stood and hopped on his good leg over to the cellar close to his house. Dropping to his knees, he put a hand over his mouth briefly when nausea turned his stomach upside down. The pain in his ankle had intensified the second a small amount of pressure had been put on it.
Hearing the guy stir, he looked back and saw the man sit up. His back was to him, thank goodness. Quietly, he opened the cellar door, eased in, and silently closed and locked the door.
As he settled on the floor in the cool, dark room, he heard the chanting begin again. Footsteps could be heard wandering around in the distance. He sighed with relief. The guy didn’t see him enter the cellar.
The blood coming from his head slowed down. Pulling up his pants leg, he looked at his ankle. It was twice the size it normally was. With great effort, he eased his athletic shoe off and had to stifle a cry when pain throbbed through his foot and leg. His discomfort caused his heartbeat to accelerate which caused the bleeding of his head to trickle faster.
Closing his eyes, he took several calming breaths. When this was over a medical kit was going to be put down here. As it was there was nothing he could use to stabilize his ankle. Pulling off his T-shirt, he pressed it lightly to his cut right eyebrow.
Just when he thought the doped-up guy was gone, he heard his phone ring. Since the sound was coming from somewhere near his garden his phone must have fallen from his pocket while he was fighting for his life.
Fuck.
The chanting drew near. His phone stopped ringing. The chanting didn’t. He flinched when a loud bam came from nearby. The man must have thrown his phone at the house. The business man in him cringed. One more expense.
At the moment that was the least of his worries. Dead bodies were all over his yard, some of his well-tended plants were crushed, the last bad guy was still out there looking for him, and he was aching from head to toe.
All he wanted to do was go in his house, pop a few painkillers, and put some ice on his ankle. The tugging on his cellar door had him opening his eyes. Waiting anxiously, he listened and hoped the guy would give up and go on his way.
The sound of his door being pried open had him moving. He dropped his shirt on the ground. Looking hard in the dim light, he spotted the hidden door and moved gently over to it. He pushed the secret panel in and over. It made a noise as it opened and the chanting grew louder. Fuck.
The guy must have heard it, too. If he lived he was oiling the door as soon as he could. After crawling through the door, he slid it back in place and started crawling through the dark, musky tunnel.
He blessed his distant uncle for leaving him a letter telling him about the hidden tunnel. Others thought the man had been paranoid with his country home and extra food and hygiene supply storage, but right now the man’s foresight was saving his life.
When he was several yards into the passage, he heard the breaking of the cellar door. Chanting crawled across his nerves, making him move even faster. The breaking of jars of food came to him before a frustrated growl sounded from the man.
Inching forward, Pierce slowly made his way through the dark passage. His head was pounding in time with his ankle. This was one long-ass tunnel. He wanted to cry when he finally saw a sliver of light.
Clearing out the leaves and sand that covered the exit was no problem. Easing slowly from the exit, he looked in the direction of his house. From the tree-dotted scenery, he saw smoke, lots of smoke. His heart sank. The fucker was burning down his house and possibly his greenhouse as well. With a lump in his throat, he crawled stealthily toward his home. He got to the edge of his woods in time to hear a cackling laugh that made the hairs on his arms stand straight up.
The bastard he’d been fighting walked down his driveway just past his truck and reached out like he was going to open a vehicle door then he moved as if to climb into a vehicle and just disappeared.
Pierce rubbed his good eye and looked for the man in the woods and around his own truck. The man was gone. He heard the crunching of tires on his limestone driveway but didn’t see any vehicle. What the fuck!
He briefly wondered if he had sustained some brain trauma from all the hits to his head. The crackling and popping of his house being eaten by fire drew his attention. He wasn’t so messed up that he couldn’t understand that. All of his belongings were being devoured by yellow, orange, and red flames.
With a churning stomach, he crawled toward his greenhouse which was fifty yards from his house and was flame-free.
After what felt like an eternity, he entered the building. Now his knees were screaming their displeasure. Answering all of his aches, he went to his first aid kit and swallowed four pain relievers with a bottle of water. Lying on the stone floor, he closed his eyes. Just for a bit.
Chapter Two
Darrin McLauchlan felt a foreboding shadow fall over him. His mind wouldn’t stop thinking about Pierce, his go-to guy for spices and herbs. The man’s voice always made his heart beat faster. It was beating faster now, too. Not in a good way, though. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something terrible was happening to Pierce.
The call he’d made hadn’t been answered and it hadn’t been returned. That was not normal at all. He didn’t know what to do so he misted to his brother Conlin’s rooms. Conlin and his mate Tristan should be up by now.
He grumbled to himself when he turned up in his own bathroom. Dammit. His misting powers weren’t fully under control yet. Not wanting to waste any more time, he left his rooms and started jogging to Conlin’s. The property they lived on belonged to Tristan and his brothers. It was huge. He lived on the first floor in a suite of rooms, and Conlin lived with Tristan in Tristan’s wing on the second floor. Jogging up the stairs and down the hallway that led to their living room door, he knocked loudly on the sturdy wooden door.
Tristan opened the door with a frown. “What’s wrong?”
The giant, blond empath was good. “I need your help.”
Tristan moved aside and let him in. They both went into the kitchen where his brother was eating a bowl of marshmallow cereal with only one eye open and no clothes on. Looked like it was too early to talk to him. He waved at his brother and turned to Tristan.
“I’ve got a bad feeling that something has happened to our spice grower. He hasn’t missed one of my calls in nine months.” Darrin tapped his fingers nervously against his thigh. “I just can’t stop feeling like something terrible has happened to him.”
“Where does he live?”
“About two hours south of here.”
Tristan looked thoughtful. “He very well could be in the area of the being we’re looking for.”
“What should I do? I don’t have proof that anything has happened. I don’t want to look like some creepy nut-job who stalks people who don’t immediately answer my calls.” Darrin nibbled nervously on his right thumbnail.
“Have you met him before?”
“No. We’ve just talked on the phone. I feel a strange connection to him. It’s something I can’t explain any more than the feeling I have that he needs me.” Darrin’s tapping fingers picked up speed. He hoped Tristan didn’t think he was insane. They killed insane vampires, right?
“Try to calm down, Darrin. It’s going to be all right. Since you’re obviously in need of seeing this man, I want you to take one of the company trucks and go to him.” Tristan’s tone was calming.
“What is he going to think if I just show up?” Darrin asked, alarmed yet hopeful at the same time.
“Not much. He runs a business, remember? People show up at them all the time.” Tristan watched Darrin fidget for a moment. “Just tell him you’re very happy with his products and wanted to meet him.”
“Th–that could work. I need to make another order as well. I could tell him I wanted to do it in person,” Darrin said with a mixture of nervous energy and excitement. He quic
kly stepped up to Tristan and gave him a hug. “Thank you.”
He looked over at his still naked brother and said, “I’d hug you, but you know.” Darrin gestured down Conlin’s naked form, which was mostly covered by the table he was still eating cereal at.
“Yep. I get it. You know what you’re going to encounter every time you show up here early.” Conlin stopped and looked Darrin over. “I hope your spice grower is okay. Take your nervous ass on. I know you need to go check on the man,” Conlin’s eyes were full of understanding.
Darrin thanked them one last time and hurried from the room. He was starting to sweat by the time he reached the ten-vehicle garage.
The two mechanic brothers, Whit and Parker, were there working on a truck. They immediately zeroed in on him as he rushed into their territory.
“Whoa. You are seriously overthinking, man. Here, take this truck. It has an awesome GPS and is freshly tuned up and ready for a trip,” Parker stated with flair as he showed Darrin which truck to take.
“Thanks.” Darrin tried to clear his mind.
Parker laughed. “You suck at clearing your mind.” Turning serious, the mindreading vamp got in the passenger side of the truck and picked up the GPS. “Give me the address or just think it and I’ll put it in.”
Whit nodded. “Yeah, you’re too wound up to do it quickly.”
Darrin gave Parker the address from memory. It only took one time of seeing Pierce’s address and he committed it to memory. That was strange, because usually he was terrible at remembering addresses and dates.
“There you go, man. Be safe,” Parker said and then got out of the truck and closed the door.
“Thanks, again.” He put the truck in gear and backed out of the garage. They nodded and started talking. They are great guys. Admittedly, a little freaky since they could read minds. He did need to work on blanking his mind, but right now his emotions were all over the place and his brain was racing.
The drive was hellishly long. He’d missed two turns and had to turn around to get back on track. Two miles from his destination, he smelled smoke. The scent of charred wood had his heart pounding and his nerves twitching. Bone-deep, he feared the smoke was coming from Pierce’s place.
One more turn had him going up a long driveway. It curved and Darrin got his first look at the still smoking home. The greenhouse close by was smoke-free, and the truck was parked far enough from the smoldering house that it was safe. The vehicle probably reeked of smoke and would for a while.
The scent of blood broke through the smoke that clouded the area. He looked around and saw rows and rows of plants. Pulling in behind Pierce’s truck, he jumped from the truck. Dead bodies were all over the yard.
Panic shot through every molecule in his body. He raced from one body to the next. Intuition told him none of these men were Pierce. He ran around the smoking house. No more bodies were to be found.
Running over to the greenhouse, he burst in. “Pierce, Pierce. Are you here?” he called out. No one answered. That didn’t stop him. He raced to the back of the plant-filled building. Halfway there he noticed the trail of blood on the stone floor. With a sick heart, he followed the blood trail. He should have noticed the blood if nothing because it smelled different from the others. This blood was aromatic.
With each step he took, his fangs threatened to erupt from his itchy gums. Something was wrong with him. Right now he didn’t have time to worry about himself. Pierce was his main concern.
A little further up and to the right he found a man’s body. The guy was covered in blood. His shirt was gone as well as one of his shoes. He had a pistol holster on his thigh that was empty. Darrin dropped to his knees and forced himself to listen for a heartbeat.
Thu-thump…thu-thump…thu-thump.
It was there, barely. He picked up the man’s battered hand. “Pierce, Pierce.” No response came. He leaned closer to the man’s ear. The scent of the man’s head immediately made Darrin’s fangs ache and a strong desire to drink from the guy overwhelmed him.
“I’m fucking losing it,” Darrin yelled. His heart was steadily trying to ram its way out of his chest. He couldn’t handle this. Another powerful need to bite the man washed over him. He growled and the man moaned.
Fuck. The man’s groan had his dick rock hard in a flash. Needing to be away from this place and this man before he did something terrible, Darrin grabbed the man up and misted them both out of the greenhouse.
He tried to get them to the great room on the lower level so Luke and Milly could look at the injured man. They ended up in Drake’s office.
“Wr–wrong room,” he stammered in horror.
All three of the brothers looked at him and then the man he was holding. When they looked at the man in his arms, he hissed and he felt his fangs shoot through his gums.
One look down at the precious man in his arms and he shook his head, trying to clear it. His stomach flipped and he started shaking.
“Help me.” His words were as shaky as he was.
Drake, Caleb, and Tristan slowly stood. Their next moves were anything but slow. Drake forced Darrin’s hands to grip his own ankles. Caleb swooped in and removed the bloody man in his lap. Caleb had moved so quickly the man’s body didn’t even have time to roll out of Darrin’s lap.
Tristan shouted, “Last guest room,” and Caleb and Tristan disappeared from the room.
Drake stepped closer to him. “What happened?”
He tried to answer, but all he did was open his mouth and speak incoherently. The need to be near the man he’d brought here was messing with his whole system. His fangs wouldn’t retract and he couldn’t stop shaking.
“Don’t try again. I’m going to get you some Calming Wine with a straw. You’ve worked on these bottles in the winery. Now you get to see how it works,” Drake said and then turned to get the wine from his personal stash.
Darrin wanted to respond. He just couldn’t. Something was severely wrong with him. When Drake returned with the wine, he drank from the straw and hoped the mixture would take effect quickly.
After he was finished, he focused on calming his heart and nerves. Usually he had great control over both. Since meeting the bleeding, beaten man, he was totally out of control. Realizing Drake couldn’t let him near the man until he was under control, Darrin breathed in and out slowly and carefully.
The wine was starting to help. His fangs eased back into his gums, he stopped shaking, and his heart quit acting like a wrecking ball. While taking in a last deep breath, he looked up a Drake.
“Now can you tell me what happened?” Drake asked in a nonthreatening way.
After taking another deep breath, he answered, “I went to check on our spice grower because I felt like something bad had happened to him.” He shook his head sadly. “When I got to his place the house had been burned down and dead bodies were all over the yard. I found the man I brought here in the greenhouse.” He shook his head again and swallowed roughly. “He was so still and so beat up. When I got a good close-up smell of him I freaked out and wanted to bite him and fuck him so bad.” Pausing for a moment, he looked Drake directly in the eyes. “What’s wrong with me?”
“I don’t know. If I release your hands will you be able to control yourself?” Drake asked.
He thought for a minute. “Yes.”
“Once I free you I expect you to drink another glass of the calming wine.” Drake poured another glass and removed the straw.
“Okay,” Darrin replied with a nod of his head. If he didn’t get himself together he’d never be able to see the man again. That thought had a fiery spike of pain searing his heart.
Drake waved a hand and both of Darrin’s came unglued from his ankles. After shaking his arms out, he took the glass from Drake and sat in a chair to drink it. The soothing effects continued to grow in him. This stuff was great. He felt close to normal. One thing he couldn’t stop was the need to go see the injured man.
Once he was finished with his drink, he polit
ely asked, “Can I see the man I brought here?”
Drake chuckled. “Nice manners. You’ve gone from hissing warnings to politely asking to see a man you were ready to kill for a moment ago.” The vamp looked him over. “Do you think you can control yourself?”
“Truthfully, I don’t know. I just know I need to be near him,” Darrin answered honestly.
“Fair enough. Just know I’ll be keeping an eye on you,” Drake forewarned. The vamp grabbed Darrin’s arm. “I’d let you mist us, but with your record I don’t want to risk ending up in a lion’s cage at a zoo or someplace wild like that.”
“Ha-ha-ha. Will I ever live this down?”
“In about two hundred years,” Drake answered right before he smoothly misted them into the guest room the others were in.
Darrin groaned in response, earning a grin from Drake.
The room was a beehive of activity. Luke was stitching up the man’s forehead, Milly was walking in with some of her special tea, Caleb was cutting the man’s pants off, and Tristan was on the phone.
With a churning stomach, he watched Caleb quickly revealing more and more of the man. Stop streamed through his mind. From a medical standpoint he knew it needed to be done to see what damage was there. From a lover’s viewpoint, he didn’t want any of them to see what belonged to him.
Lovers? He didn’t even know the guy’s name for sure. That didn’t matter to the creature that lived in him and was becoming stronger by the second. A creature he used to be able to control.
His gums started itching again as Caleb removed the man’s pants. Bruised, sculpted muscles covered the guy. The flesh between his own legs billowed and cried for relief. Glancing at Drake who was standing next to him with his thick arms crossed over his chest, Darrin knew he had to behave or he’d be taken from the room.
A tingling started in his balls. He shifted and tried to ignore it. Get a grip, you cannot fuck an unconscious man, he told himself sternly. His cock didn’t get the message. With great effort, he ignored his own body and watched as Luke and Milly went to work on the man’s swollen ankle.
