Avet, Danica - Ain't No Bull [The Veil 4] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Danica Avet

  “And what are you doing with this young lady?” Ricky acted as though it was normal to meet incubi Masters every day.

  “This is Isola Malone of the Blood Maiden Tribe.” He moved closer to the sofa and Isola. “She is a close friend of Queen Albreda, Lineage Chieftain Ruby Blue, and several High Council members. She is here for…comment faites-vous pour dire, a time-out?” He smiled and Arabella sighed. “She is impulsive, our Izzy is. She was sent to the Black Dog Camp to meditate on her behavior and learn control.”

  “And you were sent here to check on her?” Ricky asked smoothly.

  Grant blinked down at the female on his sofa and saw trouble. Sexy trouble, but trouble nonetheless. She was a close friend of an Amazon Queen and some of the most powerful beings in the Veil. Everyone in the Veil knew you didn’t mess with any of the Amazon Queens. They were unpredictable and violent. And their tribes were barred from living within any city limit inside the continental United States. He scrubbed a hand over his face.

  As much trouble as she could bring to his door, that didn’t change the fact that his ring recognized her. It still tingled and it hadn’t fallen out yet, but he knew she was his mate. And by the way she’d reacted to his mother’s words, it wasn’t something Isola wanted. Damn it to the nine hells, he thought with a grimace.

  She moaned. The soft, breathy sound sent blood straight to his cock which swelled. His mind instantly bombarded him with images of her making those sounds while he rode her hard, or she rode him hard. He didn’t care.

  “Why did she pass out?” Grant moved to sit next to her on the sofa. He wanted to be the first person she saw when she came to. The last person he wanted her to see was Fallon.

  He sensed the incubus’s confusion. “I do not know. I have never seen her faint before.” There was concern in the Cajun’s voice.

  Ricky watched Isola coming out of the faint. “I think it was a panic attack.”

  The Cajun shrugged. “Faint, panic attack, it’s the same thing, yes?”

  Grant supposed he couldn’t begrudge the incubus for worrying about his friend, but only so long as that concern didn’t extend any further. He wouldn’t tolerate any male laying a hand on her again, something she’d best get used to quick.

  “Isola,” he said softly, tapping her cheek. In her faint, her face was relaxed, younger looking, and so godsdamned beautiful, he wanted to lock her away.

  He was surprised by his feelings. Minotaurs were not possessive, not really. It was hard to become possessive when they had to service a harem of cow-swans, but with Isola he felt as though he would kill anyone for even looking at her.

  “Bears,” she moaned, her eyelashes fluttering. “Fucking bears all over the place with bad breath and big paws.”

  Grant looked up at Ricky, whose eyebrows arched high on his forehead. He couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face at Ricky’s offended expression. He looked back at the crazy woman coming out of her faint.

  “You need to wake up, Isola.” He didn’t know what her problem with bears was, but he would fix it. She needed to get along with Ricky since he was Grant’s best friend.

  Her eyes opened and just as Grant wanted, they landed on him. He smiled again, watching as awareness crept into the coffee-brown depths. This was his mate, he thought in wonder. He understood she probably wasn’t a big fan of men and wouldn’t be happy having a minotaur as a mate, but she could get over that. What they could have together was enough to fight for if she was of a like mind. Grant knew he’d have to work hard to get her to see things his way and good thing he was a goal-orientated bull, because he could do it.

  What he didn’t understand was the sudden anger that flared to life in her eyes, and he would’ve asked her about it if her fist hadn’t found its way into his nose.

  * * * *

  Izzy didn’t know how she came to be inside and at this moment, she could give a rat’s ass. When she saw the soft glow in Grant’s eyes, anger mingled with panic swept through her again. The bastard was planning. She could just about see the wheels turning in his fat head! He probably already had her decked out in nothing but a pair of heels and an apron fixing his dinner.

  So she did what any self-respecting Amazon did when confronted by an arrogant man. She punched him.

  His hands immediately covered his nose as he bent over her with a curse. The movement revealed the rest of the room. Fallon looked down at her with affectionate indulgence, the cow bitch cried out with anger at the blood spewing from her son’s nose. Her blue eyes promised retribution, but Izzy was past caring. Then her gaze lit upon the bear.

  Blackness threatened to swarm over her again. Fuck no, she thought, pushing it back. He was just a bear. A big, smelly, mauling beast with paws the size of her head. She shuddered, avoiding the bear’s eyes. She loathed bears to bottom of her soul. They were part of the reason she’d become a nomadic Amazon. Ruthlessly pushing those unwelcome memories to the side, she sat up.

  Shoving the bull off the sofa, she got to her feet although she made sure to keep the bear in sight. Never turn your back on a bear. That lesson had been drilled into her brain and carved into her skin.

  “What the hell is going on here?” Her eyes darted between Fallon, the cow bitch, and Grant, who glared at her over his hands.

  “Well now, that’s what we’re trying to figure out, missy. Mind telling me why you were attacking my Aunt Bella?”

  Yes she did mind, but she wasn’t going to get into a pissing contest with a bear. Especially not a bear who was also a cop and capable of locking her up where she’d have to look at him.

  Izzy shrugged, taking a step away from them. It was a barely noticeable movement, but Fallon’s eyes narrowed on her like laser beams. “She said something I didn’t want to hear.”

  “And that’s just cause to attack someone?” the bear growled, impatience coloring his tone.

  “It is after she tried to beat the shit out of me with her shoes,” Izzy shot back, anger finally overriding the panic. “I was trying to keep her son from killing my friend and she started hitting me. Then she pissed me off when she said…she said…that.” She couldn’t even say the word, her stomach churning at the thought.

  The cow’s chest swelled up with indignation. “You were touching my son where only a mate should! I have a mother’s right to protect my child.”

  “Don’t you think it’s time you cut the umbilical cord, lady?”

  “Well, I never!” Arabella said, looking to her son for help.

  “Exactly, you never cut the apron strings,” Izzy told her brutally. “Your son is old enough to do whatever the fuck he wants without your interference. If you’d stop chewing your cud once in a while and think about it, you’d realize I’m right.”

  Izzy refused to be cut off at the knees by the wounded look in the cow’s eyes. Bella was only causing more trouble for her son by being overprotective. Yet again, another memory threatened to resurface, but Izzy fought past it. She didn’t have time for this shit.

  “Are we finished here?” she demanded of the bear without looking at him.

  He studied her for so long, she started feeling sick again. “Not quite. Mind telling me what my aunt said that you didn’t like?”

  “I wish you’d stop asking me if I mind telling you shit when it really means I have to tell you,” Izzy mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. “She said ah, I was her son’s mate, which is a complete fucking lie. First off, I eat beef, I don’t mate it, and secondly, I’ve taken a vow of chastity.”

  Okay, so that last one had been sort of a lie, but she was desperate to get her point across. She’d taken a vow never to sleep with another shapeshifter, which left the rest of the yummy men in the Veil for her to look over. Unfortunately, she saw Grant’s eyes go from amused to challenging. Aw, fuck.

  Chapter Eight

  Grant went from hot to cold to hot again in the time it took for Ricky to lead Arabella out of the house with the promise he’d stop by later. The in
cubus looked just as dumbfounded, his eyes going back and forth between Isola and Grant as though looking for the intangible link that caused a mating. Grant knew it was there, he could feel it and he knew Isola could feel it as well.

  He fumed silently, staring her down as she stood there looking composed. Her vow was a lie, but he wouldn’t call her on it. Oh no, it would be much more fun to make her break it.

  “Izzy?” Fallon asked, breaking the silence. “Cher, you um, took a vow?” He sounded skeptical, so Grant felt a little better. He leaned closer to hiss in her ear. “What about those satyrs a couple of months ago?”

  Her gamine little face screwed up into a frown that should’ve made her look fierce, but only managed to look charming. She wiped her hands on her pants then fidgeted with one of the grommets.

  She cleared her throat. “Nothing uh, happened.” Fallon snorted and she frowned up at him. “I kicked their asses and sent them on their way.”

  “You respond to my enchantment,” the soon-to-be-dead incubus insisted. “If you had taken a vow, you wouldn’t have become aroused.”

  Grant’s hands clenched into hard fists. The bastard was aching for a beat down.

  Her cheeks were bright red. “Um, it’s a recent vow,” she mumbled. “This year is going to be my first test.” Grant watched her eyes shift to the left. He smiled. She was lying her cute little ass off!

  “That’s too bad,” Grant said, drawing her gaze to his face. What she saw obviously upset her because her face darkened into a scowl that could peel paint. “You’re gonna fail, baby girl.”

  Isola glared at him, her hands curling into fists. “You arrogant…ass…bull, whatever! My vow is sacred. I’m going to apply to the Virgin Guard when I get back home.”

  Grant took that hit like a knife to the heart. If she wasn’t lying, oh gods, she’d be out of his reach. The Amazon Virgin Guard was about as untouchable as a Veilerian could get. They sacrificed their femininity to become the most lethal warriors in any dimension. They were the women ancient Greeks wrote about who cut off their breasts to fight better. Grant stared at her chest. He’d lock her up before he let anything happen to those succulent peaches. Plans came to mind, ways to romance her. Grant calmed a bit. If he had a plan, he would find a way to win her.

  “Take that damned look off your face!” Isola screeched at him. She sounded a bit like his mother when she did that, he thought with smug surprise.

  “Izzy, Isola,” Fallon soothed, raising his hands in a placating gesture as he approached her. “Fouine, calm down. What look is the bull making at you?” Fallon looked at Grant. He shrugged. “I think this is just a face he has, yes? He is not very attractive, but he can’t help that.”

  Isola shrugged off her friend’s hands, her eyes shooting arrows right at Grant. “No, Fallon. He’s scheming. I can tell. He’s got some fucked-up plan just because his mother thinks I’m his mate,” she snarled. Then she paused. “And he is too attractive. He’s very sexy.”

  She said it grudgingly as though she didn’t want to concede that much, but Grant would take it gladly. Now if he could manage to hide his intentions, she’d never know what hit her.

  “I don’t know what you mean, Isola, I’m just thinking that your friend may be able to help us with the killer nymph problem,” he said mildly.

  Fallon cursed heartily. “There is no such thing as killer nymphs. I have told Isola this and now I’m telling you! Nymphs do not attack for any reason.”

  Grant shrugged glad to see the ire in Isola’s eyes fading to indignation at her friend’s stubbornness. “I just know what I saw. The nymphs lured me out of a bar in town and then grabbed my ring to bring me to someone they called Master Ormond.”

  A stillness came over Fallon and Isola as though a demon had just entered the room. Not liking their reaction, Grant tried to remember if he remembered anything else from that night. He didn’t. There were so many masters in the Veilerian, it was almost impossible to keep track of which faction used the term.

  “What do you know?” he finally asked when he drew a blank.

  * * * *

  Isola shared a guarded look with Fallon. She wasn’t sure how much to tell Grant. If the Master who wanted him was Ormond Steele, then the minotaur was in more trouble than she could help him with. She was glad he finally changed the subject though, even if it was to something more dangerous, so much the better. The last thing she wanted to talk about was her possible ascension to the Virgin Guard.

  Problem was, now she didn’t now know how much information to share. Ormond Steele was frequently called master, or the Overlord, by those who served in the Eturian army. It was only recently that the High Council and Veilerian Protection Agency had learned who the Overlord was. With the defection of one of the Eturians’ top generals, Malachi Cromwell, and one of their most deadly assassins, Noelani Fayard, the Veil now knew who they were up against. Although it hadn’t helped much since Ormond had vanished from sight.

  Izzy had seen the bastard herself when she and Malachi had rescued Noelani from Ormond’s master general. She’d burned the general’s house down—and had the burn marks on her ass as a souvenir. The VPA and High Council had cautioned Izzy’s tribe not to stir the waters too much, they wanted to catch Ormond red-handed and give him a fair trial.

  Probably because they knew the Amazons would take matters into their own hands. Izzy’s fingers twitched. Yeah, she’d love to tear into the Eturians personally. Those bastards had been tormenting her friends and people she considered family for years. Nearly everyone in her life had been touched by violence at the hands of the Eturians. The way she figured, payback was a bitch named Izzy.

  That was part of the reason she was in Wyoming. She’d been chomping at the bit to destroy Steele. Izzy growled. She hated bullies and that’s exactly what the Eturians were, picking on the innocent and helpless. Not that Grant was either, but he wasn’t as equipped to deal with the Eturians as a band of hardened Amazon warriors.

  Fallon touched her arm gently. Izzy forced a smile. Ormond had gotten away last time. He’d turn tail and run the minute he’d seen Luther’s house on fire. Her hand brushed the burn marks on her ass. She hadn’t gone out looking for him because her queen had asked it of her. But this time though, it looked as though she’d fallen right in the path of Ormond Steele’s next victim. She wouldn’t let him get away again.

  “Well?” he asked, looking from Izzy to Fallon and back again.

  Fallon rubbed the back of his neck, his face indecisive.

  “We can’t say,” Izzy finally told him. “We’d have to find out who the nymphs were planning to take you to before we could tell you anything.”

  Grant’s eyes flared with anger. She understood why. She’d want to know exactly what was going on as well, but it wasn’t their secret. It was the Council’s, and they could put Izzy and Fallon behind bars for centuries if either of them divulged that information without clearance.

  “I’m sorry, we can’t tell you.” She frowned. She really was sorry she couldn’t tell him. Well what do you know, she thought absently. “Let me contact a few people, find out what they know of this area and how much we can tell you.”

  “She’s correct, taureau, we cannot say anything yet, but we will help you,” Fallon promised, earning a smile from Izzy. She knew she could count on him.

  Grant’s face was impassive, but his eyes never wavered from Izzy’s face. “I don’t have room for another person so you’ll have to stay somewhere else, Plaisance.” His eyes warned her he hadn’t given up on finding out what was going on. “I’ll accept this for the time being, but the minute anyone is in danger, I don’t give a fuck who you talk to, I’m going to want answers.”

  Izzy nodded. “I understand, and we’ll make sure that doesn’t happen,” she promised. She looked at Fallon. “Do you want to try talking to you-know-who, or find the nymphs?”

  Fallon shrugged. “I will speak with the powers that be. You are a better tracker than I am,” he told her wi
th a smile that she returned. “I’ll be back as soon as I find anything out.” He turned to leave, stopping at the door. “Fouine, do you wish to send a message to your sisters?”

  A shock ran through Izzy’s body. She hadn’t even thought of her sisters. Her eyes met Grant’s and she knew why. The damn bull was distracting her. She just wasn’t sure what she could do about it.

  “Yes, I have messages.” She gave Grant a wary look. “I’ll tell you outside.”

  * * * *

  Grant watched Isola slip out of his house with the incubus. He couldn’t put a name to the look on her face, but it hadn’t been nice. Something bigger than his mother’s words and the killer nymphs was bothering her. He hoped it was him, but with that crazy woman, he couldn’t be sure.

  Sighing loudly, he picked up the phone. He’d have to call in his assistant, Iris, to catch his slack at the office because it seemed that he’d wandered into a problem bigger than the Ball.

  His fingers paused over the number pad. That might be the connection they needed to look into, he thought. Everyone of importance in the Veil went to the Ball, that’s why security had to be top-notch. He put the phone down again. He’d talk with Isola about it and see what she thought before he made any big decisions.

  He headed to the kitchen. His stomach was growling, and if Isola was as hungry as he was, she’d want food. While he whipped up a massive vegetarian omelet, he thought of all the things he needed to do.

  He’d have to call his mom and make sure she was fine. She’d seemed shaken up by Isola’s accusations, but he wouldn’t contradict the Amazon. She was absolutely right.

  He filled a skillet with a whole bag of hash browns. He needed to talk to Ricky, bring him into the killer nymph loop. He chuckled as he threw some vegetables in the omelet.

  This wasn’t exactly the best way to woo a female, but it appeared to be the way he would win her over. Killer nymphs, overprotective mothers, and bears. Yup, he sure knew how to romance the ladies.