Blood Rights [Wicked River 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Gabrielle Evans

  “He’ll get over it,” Koba said without a hint of concern. “How are you feeling?”

  “Strange. Different.” Unmitigated power crawled over her skin and sparked inside her body. “Amazing,” she added with an uncharacteristic giggle.

  “Dude!” Casey called. “I don’t want to see your ass, Koba!”

  “Then stop looking!”

  “It’s right there, though. How am I supposed to not look?” He paused for a moment and pointed to a space just to the left of their trio. “Is that my lube?”

  “Get out!” Brock barked.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Koba asked, ignoring everyone else. He stared her up and down for a long time before speaking again. “You’re not a lycan.”

  Shit! “I, uh, I meant to tell you. I was going to tell you. I…”

  “Easy.” He dipped his head and brushed their lips together. “Just tell me now.”

  Taking a deep breath and girding her proverbial loins, Moira held tightly to Brock’s hand for support as she looked up into Koba’s eyes and prayed her confession wouldn’t blow up in her face. She tried several times, but she couldn’t get the words out. Why did it have to be so hard? Why couldn’t she just say it?

  “Moira, just tell me.”

  “It’s okay, Mo,” Brock said reassuringly. “Just say it.”

  Swallowing loudly, Moira tried once more, and though her voice came out small and weak, she finally managed to say the words. “I’m a demon.”

  Chapter Seven

  Koba had taken the news in stride, just as Brock had known he would, but they hadn’t really discussed it, either. After Moira’s announcement about her demon parentage, Koba had simply nodded, kissed her chastely, and told her that it didn’t matter.

  Forty-eight hours later, they still hadn’t talked about it. Actually, they seemed to be going out of their way to not talk about it. He and Moira had been together just shy of a year before he’d been driven out of town, and it had been a test in strength to resist claiming the golden-haired beauty.

  Moira had trusted him with her secret fairly early on in their relationship, and it hadn’t made him love or want her any less. She’d been completely against taking that last step and binding them forever, though.

  Much like lycan females, demon females were little more than human until claimed by their mates. Before being claimed, a demoness was stronger and faster than a regular man, healed faster than humans, but had no other supernatural abilities. Brock didn’t know why that was, but it had been that way for as long as he could remember.

  “Do I smell different?” Moira tucked her long legs under her as she curled into the corner of the sofa. “I think I smell different.”

  “Yeah, you do.” It wasn’t unpleasant, though. “It’s kind of like a campfire without the smoke.” He didn’t know how else to explain it, but that was pretty close.

  “Is that bad?” Moira pressed her nose to the top of her shoulder and sniffed. “I can’t smell it.”

  Brock laughed and shook his head as he moved to sit on the cushion beside her. “No, baby, it’s not bad.” Taking her hand in both of his own, he squeezed gently, coaxing her to lean against him. “It’s going to be okay.”

  “Maybe it’s because I’m old.”

  “You aren’t old.” Naturally, Moira would pick this moment to act like a total girl. “Although, I think I see a gray hair.” He plucked at her hair playfully and grunted when he caught an elbow to the ribs for his efforts.

  “I do not have gray hair! Take it back.”

  “And you’re kind of wrinkly.”

  “Brock Jacob Lancaster, you take it back!”

  “Moira Diane Gilson,” he mimicked. “Stop acting like a girl.”

  “I don’t know if you noticed this, but I happen to be a girl.”

  “Well, yeah, but you’re cool.” She wasn’t at all like most of the girls he’d met over the years. Moira cared very little about her hair, makeup, shopping, or what she ate. It was just a few of the things he adored about her.

  “Cool? Are we in junior high again? Well, gee, Brock, I guess you’re pretty awesome, too.”

  “If you two are going to start fighting again…well, can you not? That would be cool and awesome.” Koba shuffled around the end of the sofa and eased down in the recliner, sitting on the very edge of it and watching them intently. “I have questions, but there’s something I want to say first.”

  Moira’s gaze flickered to Brock briefly, but it was long enough for him to see the uncertainty in her eyes. “Okay. What do you want to say?” She might not want to hear what Koba was about to tell them, but her voice was strong and level as always. Maybe that’s why he found it so endearing during those seldom times when she let herself be vulnerable.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t care if you’re a demoness, a vampire, or a three-headed toad. You’re mine, and that’s all that matters.”

  It was a good start to the discussion, and Brock hoped it meant they wouldn’t all be sleeping in separate beds any longer. He understood that they’d blindsided Koba with the information and the man needed time to sort out his thoughts. He just didn’t understand why Koba had to sleep on the couch to do it. The bed he slept in wasn’t very big, but it had been extremely lonely for the last two nights.

  “Thank you, Koba. I’m sorry as well, about the way I handled it.” Moira pulled her hair up on top to the crown of her head and secured it in a ponytail with the band around her wrist. She looked like she was preparing for battle, and it made Brock grin. “So, what did you want to ask me?”

  Easy, Mo. He knew Koba wouldn’t hurt either of them for anything in the world. He was just confused, and rightfully so. The situation was giving Brock firsthand experience in what it must have been like for Koba during the last week. Being stuck in the middle between two people he loved was exhausting.

  “I don’t know much about demons,” Koba began. “Everything I was told growing up sounded like something from a…”

  “Nightmare,” Moira supplied. “I’ve heard the legends, too.” Sighing heavily, she rubbed at her eyes and pulled on her earlobe—something she always did when she was stressed or anxious. “I don’t know how much of it is true, either.”

  It wasn’t until that moment that Brock realized exactly how scared his girl was. She might have been a demon her entire life, but until recently, that hadn’t meant much. Now, she didn’t know what to expect. For a control freak like Moira, the unknown had the potential to become crippling.

  “Why now?” Brock asked. “What changed, Mo?” She’d always been so adamant about keeping that part of herself hidden. So, what had happened to change her mind?

  Moira didn’t hesitate in her answer, meaning she’d already thought about it and anticipated the question. “Two reasons. One, because I can’t protect myself or this pack as I was before.”

  Well, that certainly felt like he’d been used. “The second reason?”

  “I love you, and I’ve been selfish—too stupid or too scared to see I was doing more damage than good.” She huffed dramatically and rolled her eyes. “You really are thick sometimes.”

  “I happen to agree.” Koba just smirked when Brock glared at him. “Well, you are.”

  “And you.” Pushing up from the sofa, Moira slinked over to Koba and crawled up in his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I did this all too fast and in the wrong order. I’m sorry for that. You belong here, though. We need you. I need you to stay.”

  “Ah, kitten, where else would I go?” Koba’s arms came around her waist, cuddling her close to his chest, and Brock thought he’d burst with all the emotions swimming inside him.

  His mates made a beautiful pair. Koba’s dark, Native American good looks were a striking contrast to Moira’s creamy complexion and honey-colored hair. A warrior and his princess was the first thought that came to mind. And Brock was one lucky son of a bitch.

  There was no jealousy or envy in his heart as he watched Koba tuck Moira ag
ainst him protectively. He’d do absolutely anything to keep them both safe. If that meant opening his veins and bleeding out on the ground, he’d do it with a smile on his face. Brock loved his mates in different ways and for different reasons, but not one more than the other.

  There was no way he could ever choose between them, and he prayed he’d never be put in that position.

  * * * *

  All of his life, Koba had been taught to fear the demons in their world. Their legends and myths were told to the pups of the pack, meant to keep them in line. Demons were evil, vicious monsters with little reasoning of right and wrong. They cared about nothing other than their next kill.

  That’s what he’d been told.

  Moira was smart, warm, and giving. Maybe he hadn’t known her long, but he couldn’t imagine that she would ever hurt anyone unless left with no other choice. She was selfless to a fault, and from what he’d pieced together, she’d never taken anything for herself.

  “So, what do you want to know?” Moira mumbled as she traced the letters on his shirt with her forefinger.

  How could someone so precious be evil? “How old are you? Are demons immortal?”

  “I’ll be forty-two on Christmas Eve. I honestly don’t know any other demons, but from what I understand, we’re immortal.”

  Good lord, the girl didn’t look any older than twenty-one. “Wait a minute. I thought you said you have a sister. Isn’t she a demon?”

  Moira shook her head against his shoulder. “Ryah is a lycan. Both of her parents were lycans.”

  He couldn’t see her face, but there was pain, and maybe a bit of anger, in her voice. Koba looked over to Brock in confusion, but the man just dipped his head in their mate’s direction, indicating that it was Moira’s story to tell.

  “Okay, I don’t get it. Were you adopted?” Interspecies adoptions were rare, and he had a hard time imagining that wolves would be willing to take in a demon child.

  “Ryah and I have the same mother. I always knew I was different, but I didn’t understand why my dad hated me so much. The pack avoided me. I never had any friends.”

  She didn’t sound sorry for herself. It was something that had happened, and now she was moving on from it as best she could. He was astounded by how strong she was, but no one should have to shoulder all of that hurt alone.

  “It wasn’t until Ryah was born that my mom finally told me. Well, she gave me a short summary. I guess my birth was the result of an affair. My real dad didn’t even know I existed, but she said if he found out, he’d come for me, and it was my job to keep Ryah safe.”

  Koba didn’t see how the two things were related. It sounded to him like Moira’s mother had done nothing more than manipulate an eternal protector for her youngest child. Who would keep Moira safe? Who would be her champion?

  “So you’re only part demon.” It didn’t matter, but he could feel the way his mate trembled in his arms, knew she needed to purge herself of the secrets she’d been keeping for far too long.

  “I guess that’s right, but I don’t really know what it means.”

  Brock slid off the sofa and moved over to kneel in front of Koba. “We’ll figure it out together.”

  What Brock really meant was that he’d find answers and pummel anyone who got in his way. Barbaric perhaps, but Koba had to admit there was a certain appeal to the idea. Besides, he’d be lying if he denied how hard it made his dick when Brock unleashed the alpha in him.

  “You said something about powers. Are we talking superhero powers? Because, I gotta be honest. That would be extremely kick-ass.”

  Deep, masculine chuckles rolled up from Brock’s belly, and his gray eyes sparkled with happiness. It was a good look on him, and Koba hoped to see it more often. Moira’s shoulders shook, and for a moment he feared she was crying. Then her head fell back on her shoulders and her face lit up as she rocked with unadulterated laughter.

  Koba might have joined in, but he found himself completely mesmerized by the pair. His life hadn’t been a bad one. With an alpha for a father and a Keeper for a mother, he’d been practically royalty to his birth pack in North Carolina. He’d walked away from it all to be with Brock, and he’d do it again in a heartbeat.

  The addition of Moira to their unconventional family only furthered his conviction that he’d made the right choice. It might have been a long and winding road to get to where he was, but he firmly believed it was exactly where he belonged.

  “I have no idea,” Moira answered when she got herself under control. “I doubt it will be anything like flying or X-ray vision, though.”

  “Okay, so we’ll deal with it when it comes.” Brock bobbed his head thoughtfully. “Mo, where are your parents?”

  “Dead.” There was no sadness or grief. She was simply stating a fact. “I was away at college, and Ryah was just a baby. I guess my dad was in some kind of trouble with the alpha. They struck a deal, and Dad got the short end of the stick. In other words, the alpha killed them both and kidnapped Ryah. It took me nearly three years to find her.”

  Koba had a million other questions, but before he could continue his interrogation, the front door began shaking as someone banged on it from the other side. Brock frowned as he unfolded his large frame from the floor. “Stay there.”

  Apparently he’d forgotten how incredibly bullheaded Moira was, because he looked surprised when she leapt up from Koba’s lap and followed him to the front door. Koba hadn’t expected anything less, however. Hell, he’d have been disappointed if she’d done what she’d been told.

  Pushing aside the curtain, Brock peered out the window toward the porch and nodded for Moira to answer the door. “It’s your beta.”

  Expecting Rip Lomack, Koba rose to his feet as well, preparing for trouble. It was the other beta, Joss, who stood on their stoop, though. “We’ve got Walkers in the north woods.”

  Brock pushed Moira behind him and pointed a finger in her face. “Stay here.” Then that finger swung in Koba’s direction. “You, too.”

  Sharing a disbelieving look with Moira, Koba snorted and stepped forward. “Yeah, right.”

  “Not on your life,” Moira added as she shoved past Brock and took off around the side of the house.

  “Alpha!” Joss called, jogging to catch up with her. “There’s something else you should know.”

  “Then you should probably tell me.”

  “Rip—” The beta cut himself off, and his head snapped toward Moira. “What’s that smell?” He leaned closer and sniffed at Moira’s neck, causing a possessive growl to slip through Koba’s snarling lips. “Your scent is different.”

  “Joss, spit it out. What about Rip?”

  Shaking his head like a dog flinging off water, Joss cleared his throat and rubbed a hand over the top of his short hair. “Rip’s missing.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Joss, take those three and go left. Casey, your team goes right.”

  Moira barked out orders as they ran toward the tree line. She was uncomfortable having members of her pack out patrolling, especially after she’d seen what the Walkers could do. Even more, she hated knowingly sending them into such a dangerous situation. Just then, she couldn’t afford to be choosy, though.

  “Fan out and circle around,” Brock commanded. “Bark twice if you get into trouble.” The wolves did as they were told, yipping their understanding before darting off into the trees.

  Grabbing Brock by the shoulder, Moira spun him around and growled. “What are you doing?”

  “My job!”

  “Back off, Brock. I know what I’m doing.” Mate or not, he had no right to come into her pack and undermine her authority.

  “You’ve been alpha for a couple of months. That doesn’t qualify you to deal with this. Go home, Mo.”

  She didn’t have time for his macho bullshit. While they stood there arguing, Shadow Walkers stalked the pack’s hunting lands, and someone was going to end up hurt or dead. When that happened, the blood would be on her han
ds, not Brock’s.

  He wanted to protect her, and that was great, but she didn’t need it. She could do…stuff now. Granted, she didn’t know exactly what that stuff was, but she could feel the energy pulsing through her. It wasn’t as though she had a choice, either. Being alpha came with certain obligations to the pack. Why couldn’t he understand that?

  “We don’t have time for this. Either get behind me or get out of my way, because I’m going.”

  Brock pulled his shirt off over his head and threw it to the ground. “Fine.” His fingers fumbled with the button on his jeans while he worked to kick off his boots. “Get yourself killed.” He shoved his pants down his thighs so that the denim pooled around his ankles. “Why should I care? It’s not like I love you or anything.” Then he shifted without giving her a chance to respond.

  The large, red wolf rubbed its head against her thigh, whining softly before snorting and taking off into the woods. “He’s just scared for you,” Koba said as he wrapped his arms around her from behind. “Be careful out there.”

  “How do I shift?” She was part lycan. She should be able to shift. Right? “Help me, Koba.”

  “I don’t know if you can, and we don’t have time right now.” He kissed the side of her neck and stepped back to crouch down in the grass. “Keep close to me.” Then he shifted just as Brock had, though his wolf’s fur was a beautiful silver-gray.

  Koba nipped at her shirt, grabbing the hem between his teeth and pulling her forward. She’d never be able to keep up with him, though, and they’d already wasted too much time. “Go. I’ll be right behind you.”

  Her mate growled and nudged the back of her thighs with his head. It was a strange feeling to have not just one but two people so devoted to her well-being. Oddly enough, she wasn’t opposed to the idea. She just didn’t want them getting the idea that she was some damsel in distress waiting for her white knights to ride up and save her.