Ganriel

by D. B. Reynolds

  He gave her a hooded look. If he loved her any less, he’d use some of his damn magic and wipe that fucking sorcerer from her memory. Cyn, of course, knew what he was thinking, or something close to it, and simply rolled her eyes. She thought his hostility—her word for it was jealousy, which was absurd—was ridiculous. After all, she was his mate, his lover. But Raphael had to admit, in his most pri­vate thoughts, that it galled him to know that the fucking sorcerer had shared a bed with his Cyn. Of course, once she’d met him, all thoughts of other men had been wiped clean. Including the fucking sorcerer.

  That thought cheered him enough to continue. “Vampire magic is very different from a sorcerer’s. I’ve been told by vampires much older than myself that our differences are one of the reasons they tried so hard to wipe us out. And probably why Katsaros thought it was a good idea to ensorcel Gabriel’s vampirism away. Sorcerers initially saw vam­pires as competitors for magical energy, even though it was abundant back then. Unfortunately, once they realized the differences between us, they feared us even more. Because a powerful vampire can create as many followers as he needs to rule a territory and defend it, while sorcerers are subject to the luck of the draw. They’re either born with magic or not, and there’s no predicting the gift. A farmer is as likely to produce a gifted child as the most powerful sorcerer.”

  “That’s pretty odd, when you think about it.”

  “I try not to. I’m just grateful it’s true. The fewer fucking sorcerers in the world, the better.”

  She slapped his arm lightly. “Hana’s a sorcerer. You like her.”

  “I admired her grandfather, and Gabriel loves her, but though her talent is unique and dangerous, she’s not a sorcerer. Her magic doesn’t work that way. From what’s she’s told us, she actually has very little control over it, and as yet, very little ability to protect herself from being used by others. She’s a very useful tool in the right hands, how­ever. One that I wouldn’t mind having on my own staff,” he added slyly.

  Cyn shook her head. “That’s cold, even for you.”

  “That’s practical. I have thousands of vampires who look to me for protection. It would be derelict for me to ignore such a powerful weapon against our enemies.”

  “I get that, but you’re still awful.”

  Moving with vampiric speed, he had her flat on her back and his hips between her tender thighs before she’d drawn a startled breath. “Was that a challenge?”

  She grinned. “You think you’re up to it?”

  He flexed his hips, dragging his hard length in the wet heat already gathering between the silken lips of her pussy.

  She dug her fingers into his hips with a shaky gasp, then lifted against him, trying to increase the friction between them. “Okay, I’m convinced,” she breathed.

  He grasped her knee and pushed her leg higher and wider, opening her up to him fully. “Challenge accepted, lubimaya.”

  CYN WAS LYING IN bed the next night, looking very much like a woman who’d been thoroughly fucked to an orgasm. Or three. She watched with unconcealed appreciation as Raphael walked out of the big closet, pulling a dark-blue, crew-necked sweater over his shoulders and settling it over a pair of black jeans.

  He glanced at her in the mirror as he combed his razor-cut hair back into order, then turned and walked over to sit next to her on the bed. His hand snaked under the sheets, his fingers trailing over the sticky wetness of her thighs and then dipping into her pussy. His gaze fixed on hers, he stabbed two fingers deep inside her, curling them to graze over her g-spot. Although pretty much any spot inside her went full on “g” when he put his mind and fingers to it.

  Cyn stiffened, her hips lifting automatically in response to his touch. “Raphael,” she gasped.

  He smiled smugly. “Was my mate adequately seduced last night?”

  She gripped the sheets to either side. “Adequate?” she breathed. “You’re the best fuck on the planet, and you know it, you bastard.”

  He tilted his head thoughtfully, as if unaware that his fingers were driving her mad. “I assure you, my parents were well married when I was born.”

  “Raphael!” she demanded.

  He leaned over and kissed her, his tongue sweeping in to claim every inch of her mouth, as he twisted his hand between her thighs and stretched his thumb up to circle her clit.

  Cyn dug her nails into his neck and back, holding him tightly, as if worried he’d try to tease her by pulling away. The walls of her pussy were already trembling, her sheath beginning to contract fitfully around his fingers. Raphael was regarding her closely. He loved watching her come. Lifting his head with a final swipe of his tongue over her lips, he pressed his thumb down hard on her swollen clit.

  Her back arched as she lifted herself against his hand, her eyes closed, breasts thrusting, rosy nipples hard and dark with blood as her climax hit. Her cries became a scream when he lowered his mouth to one full breast and bit hard enough to draw blood, her fingers scraping over his neck as he licked the blood from around her nipple, savoring the sweet taste. He lifted his head, while her body still shivered around his fingers, and eyed the bite mark on her breast with blatant male satisfaction.

  “Okay,” she whispered finally, her hand smoothing over his neck and down to his arm. “You win, challenge over. I think I’m dying.”

  He laughed softly, then leaned over to murmur directly into her ear. “You carry my blood, lubimaya, and I love you. You are not permitted to die.”

  She smiled dreamily. “Oh, good. Do I have to move?”

  “Only if you wish to be there when I confront that fucking sor­cerer. He flew in this afternoon, and Juro tells me he appears to be heading this way.”

  Her eyes snapped open. “Oh, shit! Really?” She sat up and started to swing out of bed, but then stopped long enough to give him a very sexual kiss, biting his lip slowly as she pulled away. “I love you,” she whispered.

  His gaze softened. “And I love you, my Cyn. Now take a shower and get dressed. I might just kill him and be done with it, unless you’re with me.”

  “Don’t say shit like that. And don’t leave without me.” She jumped up and ran for the bathroom.

  He was admiring her very fine ass when his cell phone rang. He didn’t need the screen ID to know who it was. “Juro,” he answered.

  “Sire, the sorcerer just turned down the drive.”

  “Tell the guards to admit him, but put him in the drawing room downstairs. He should know better than to present himself to a vampire’s estate at such an hour and without invitation. Let him wait.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  The water was pounding in the shower, and he could hear Cyn’s breathless humming as she washed her hair. He’d spoken jokingly to her about killing Katsaros. But it had been no jest. Killing that fucking sorcerer would bring him great pleasure. Unfortunately, Sotiris was in the picture, and he was far worse, for the world at least. And Katsaros was one of the few sorcerers who could truly stand against him. So, he’d let the fucker live. For now.

  GABRIEL SLID HIS cock slowly through the slick heat of Hana’s pussy, groaning as her tight walls stretched around him, her cry of pleasure a brush of warmth on his neck. He sank into her as far as he could go until his balls slapped her ass, and his groin ground against her swollen clit. Her arms tightened.

  “Gabriel, please.”

  He loved fucking her slowly, taking her to the edge of orgasm and back so many times that she finally pleaded for release. “What do you need, älskling?”

  She slid one hand down his back to his ass and gripped him hard, trying to hold him inside her. “You know.” Her inner muscles flexed, tightening around his cock like a silken glove.

  “Shit,” he gasped. His balls tightened as his own orgasm threat­ened, the heat and pressure building until he groaned out loud. “You’re killing
me.”

  Her only response was another flexing of her sheath, as her hips lifted against his groin.

  He lowered his head with a growl, closing his teeth over her delicate collarbone hard enough to leave a mark, then moving up to her sweet mouth. He kissed her slowly at first, but then bit her lower lip hard enough to break skin, savoring the few drops of blood before threading his fingers through her hair and stretching her neck taut. Her vein was plump in invitation, the blood rushing just below her skin, begging to be taken. Gabriel licked the length of it once, smiling at Hana’s soft moan, at the jerking thrust of her hips. His fangs split his gums, and he scraped his tongue over their sharp points, before lowering his mouth to her vein. Her skin split like velvet around his fangs, the thin wall of her vein surrendering to his bite as her blood began to flow.

  He gripped her harder, her blood like warm honey as it slid down his throat. He groaned against her skin, just as the euphoric in his bite sizzled through Hana’s body, snapping her from arousal to climax with shocking speed. She screamed against his shoulder, her nails digging into his ass, her legs scissored around his back as her pussy clamped down on his cock, clutching and releasing, stroking the length of him, holding him inside her as her inner muscles coaxed him to orgasm, urging him to drive deep into her body, to claim her as his, inside and out.

  He went impossibly harder as his release raged down his cock, the brutal frenzy of his climax tensing every muscle as he moaned against her neck, his fangs still buried in the succulent warmth of her vein, his deep cry shuddering over her skin.

  Gabriel lifted his head slowly, taking care to lick the small puncture wounds on Hana’s neck. Her skin was so delicate, so lovely. A small part of him wanted to bite her somewhere else, rather than mar the beauty of her neck. But the rest of him wanted the world to see the bite and know that she was his, and no one else’s.

  Hana’s legs fell away from his back, her hands smoothing slowly over his skin, as if to soothe him, to assure him of her care. Of her love.

  He kissed her closed eyelids, one after the other, then her cheeks with their sweet dimples, and finally, he took her mouth in a soft kiss, his lips moving over hers slowly, sensuously, his tongue slipping between her teeth to twist once around her tongue, before he whis­pered against her lips. “I love you.”

  She smiled, her eyes still closed, her fingers weaving through his hair. “I love you, too, Gabriel. I’m so glad I found you.”

  He released his arms, letting her feel the full weight of his body for a moment, before rolling them over and settling her on his chest, her pussy a warm wetness against his groin.

  “You feel—” He was interrupted by the ring of his cell phone. Hana had programmed his rings, so he knew this was either Juro or Jared—neither of whom he could ignore. He reached out his arm and snagged the phone, accepting the call with one hand, while his other rested on Hana’s delicious ass. “Jared,” he said, having read the display.

  “You and Hana need to get up to Raphael’s office. There’s no rush; take the time you need to shower and dress. But Katsaros just arrived, and he’ll want to see you.”

  Gabriel mouthed a silent “fuck,” and said, “We’ve just wakened, but we’ll hurry.”

  “Right.” Jared hung up.

  “Nico’s here,” he said, answering Hana’s questioning look. “Jared says we can take our time, which means they’re probably making Nico wait just on principle. My father used to do that with his enemies all the time. But Raphael does want us both upstairs.”

  She sat up, straddling him and putting her breasts on enticing display. But he was a warrior, and his lord had called him to battle. Not that Nico would draw weapons against Raphael—whether sorcerous or steel. But he wouldn’t be happy with Gabriel’s choice, and it was his responsibility, his duty to his new lord, to stand at his side.

  He gripped her hips and rose from the bed, holding on until she stood in front of him. “We’ll shower together,” he decided.

  Hana gave him a troubled look. “Should I be worried?”

  “I shall attempt to control myself, but if I fail at the sight of your naked, wet body, I’ll make it quick.”

  “Not that,” she said, gazing up at him solemnly. “I mean Nico.”

  He hugged her. “I know. Don’t worry, älskling. They seem to hate each other, so it won’t be at all pleasant. But I don’t expect blood to be spilled. Nico won’t like what I’ve done, but he’ll see that it was my choice to make, not his. And then, because they’re both too smart not to see the benefit of working together, they’ll join forces against Sotiris, who’s the true danger.”

  She rose on her toes and kissed him. “I love you. And I hope you’re right.”

  Chapter Eight

  NICK PACED BACK and forth, his boot heels cracking on the hard marble floor of the fucking “drawing room.” Who the fuck had a drawing room anymore? Little old ladies, that’s who. With plastic-covered sofas and spindly-legged wooden tables strewn with endless porcelain knick-knacks. A fucking waste of space, that’s what it was. He’d turn the damn room into an indoor shooting range, and all the targets would be vampires with fangs dripping blood. Fucking drawing room, for Christ’s sake.

  They were the only ones in the room, with Kato and Damian stand­ing guard near the two entrances, one to the side and the other straight ahead, off the foyer. But that didn’t mean they were alone. He was exquisitely aware of the number of vampires in this house. House, my ass, he thought. The place was a fucking mansion. Maybe he’d look for a bigger place when he went back to Florida. It wouldn’t do to have that damn vampire with a bigger house. He realized what he was thinking and shook his head, barking out a laugh. The unexpected sound drew Damian and Kato’s startled attention, but he waved a hand.

  “It’s nothing. Random thought,” he explained, and went back to pacing. He couldn’t stand still. There were too many vampires pressing on his awareness. He upped the probable number by a few hundred. Hell, the fucking estate had a whole other house hidden in the woods plus, Raphael being the night-crawling bastard he was, he probably had a basement bigger than the mansion and the wooded house combined. No wonder Nick’s skin was prickling with awareness of the blood­suckers. There were several lurking right outside this ridiculous drawing room, and probably sneaking around under his feet, too. As if they expected him to lead a charge up the stairs and attack their precious fucking vampire lord. And where the hell was Cyn? She couldn’t take the time to greet an old friend? Or maybe not, he admitted grudgingly. The damn vampire had her well and truly hooked. Maybe he should rescue her along with Gabriel. He smiled at the thought. She’d shoot him for trying, and then rush him to the emergency room herself. That was his Cyn. Or not his, not anymore. She’d never really been his at all. They’d been friends with benefits, and neither one of them had wanted anything more. He liked to think she was still a friend, at least, but he knew where her foremost loyalties lay, and they weren’t with him.

  Thinking of loyalties, how the hell had Gabriel ended up in the vampire’s clutches? Nick knew all about his warrior’s history, but that’s all it was. History. He stopped his pacing to stand in front of Damian. “What did Gabriel say again? About how he ended up here?”

  “Not an exact quote, but basically he says Raphael is his sworn lord and that’s where he belongs.”

  “And he seemed rational to you? He wasn’t under the fucking vampire’s influence?”

  “Yeah,” Damian admitted with obvious reluctance. “And his woman, Hana, was on board with it, too.”

  Nick nodded and glanced away, striding over to the big windows looking out on the busy courtyard. Limos kept pulling up and dis­gorging beautiful people. More women than men, all in their twenties and thirties. They were escorted off to his right, to some destination beyond his view. He knew where they came from and why they were here, and he couldn’t care less
. They knew and accepted the risks of offering blood from the vein to random vampires. Vampires might be many things, but their lords, at least, weren’t stupid. Every one of those people would have to sign a release before they’d be allowed to join the party. He scoffed silently. As if letting a vamp sink fang was a fucking privilege. People were nuts.

  He turned away and resumed pacing. It helped him think. Hana Himura was Gabriel’s woman, the one who’d apparently freed him from the curse. Nick was grateful for the assist, but he might have wished she’d left it at that. He knew her. Or at least her family. Her grand and great-grandfathers were both Japanese mobsters. Yakuza. Or they had been. The great-grandfather had died years ago, and Nick had received word just that morning that her grandfather’s estate had been attacked some days ago, the old man murdered.

  His spies had long since warned him about Hana, and not because they’d known that Gabriel was hidden in the Himuras’ fucking garden. If Nick had known that, he would have gone and brought his warrior home. Of course, those damn curses Sotiris had created were vexingly specific. It was just possible that if Nick had taken Gabriel away from the Himuras’, his curse would never have been broken. He shook his head. Sotiris was an evil bastard, but he’d crafted the four curses well. He’d done it using Nick’s own magic, in part, but that was another very sore topic.

  No, Nick’s spies had warned about Hana, because she had power, though no one seemed to know exactly what kind. The real puzzle was how the hell the Himura bloodline had produced a gifted daughter at all. Nick knew the old man collected magical artifacts, because they’d bid against each other more than once. Neither was supposed to know who was bidding against them, but he suspected Himura had known, just as he had. But artifacts did not a power make. There was no power in the Himura line that he knew about. He reminded himself that there’d been no power in his father’s line, either. But come on. The elder Himura’s only child—Hana’s father—was a limp-dick business­man—finance or something. He lived in fucking Beverly Hills, for Christ’s sake, with a brainlessly decorative wife and two lumpy sons. How the fuck did a guy like that produce a daughter with a gift strong enough to trigger anyone’s radar?