by Eve Newton
Devon helped him a lot after Liv rescued him, and their time spent together in New York made them closer. That was around the time that he and Liv started sleeping together. That first time with her, he thought he would never be able to keep up with her or please her. Lincoln had never been with a Vampire before and it was an eye-opener. Holy Hell, but they have stamina. Geez. She wore him out completely. He got up the nerve to ask Devon about it one night after a few drinks, and after he got over his hysterics, which he promised Lincoln that he wasn’t laughing at him, he gave him a few pointers on how to please her. He found it quite unsettling at first, but after Devon was proved right with Liv begging him for more, he went back for more advice. Devon suggested a three-way which made him uncomfortable at first as he had never done that before, but Devon seems to be an old hat at things like that and he didn’t feel uncomfortable once during that night. In fact, quite the opposite, although he wasn’t too happy to find that male Vampires can be ready in a second, literally, but he thinks maybe that was part of Devon’s plan, to take over when he needed a minute. Devon took it in his stride and gave him the time he needed, which as it turns out, when you are with someone like Liv, doesn’t take too long at all.
She started to whisper words to him, really sexy talk and it is amazing the effect it has on him. He loves it when she tells him how he makes her feel. He knows she loves being with him. She wouldn’t say it if she didn’t. It makes him happy that he can please her and even happier that her sire is jealous of them. Lincoln saw his face as he interrupted them in Vegas, before he caught him looking and altered his expression. But he saw it and it was one of pure rage and jealousy and it made Lincoln feel pretty good. Why? Because he hates him. It comes as no surprise to him that Lance turned out the way he did with his sire as a role model. It just shows the strength of character that Liv has to have turned out the way she did. After the way he treated her, reducing her to a fuck toy to please him as he saw fit, was sick. And it hurt her so much. Lincoln knew more than most how much he hurt her.
As she sleeps, her mental blocks are down, and he can read her thoughts. He really does try not to. It is a massive invasion of privacy and he can’t say that he would like someone to do that to him, especially as he slept, but through their bond they pull him in, calling to him. He finds it happening before he can pull away, and those few seconds are all it takes to glean a lifetime of information from her. Her thoughts are rapid and erratic, and he doesn’t know how she copes with it. He feels nauseous after reading her. It is any wonder she stays on her feet long enough to function as she does. She is truly one of the smartest people he has ever come across. Quick as a whip, but it doesn’t surprise him that she can be a bit of a ditz at times. The little things escape her because their lack of importance reduces them to a nanosecond in her thoughts and then it’s gone, and she’s moved onto a dozen other things.
Scott did a brilliant job of keeping up with her. He made all of their jobs a lot easier to deal with him. Lincoln had his doubts as to whether Jess would keep up, but she is holding her own in a job that is a killer to start off with, never mind adding to the fact that she is still a weeks’-old Vampire. She is strong, he has to give her that.
Chapter 11
Buckinghamshire, England, March 2013 - Lincoln
He spends the next couple of hours doing research. He comes across a few good leads and others that may or may not need looking into. It appears Werewolf sightings (of the Hollywood style) are common, especially around the full moon, so who can be sure. He emails all the details to Cliff, who is a Werewolf of the regular kind, and one of his designated sleuths. There isn’t much he can’t get to the bottom of. He has given him a day to get back to him and he will no doubt have something concrete by then. They need to find this creature before it attacks again. Alpha-less Packs are just asking for trouble. For the most part, Alphas are born into it. All males, females only gain their title by going through the Pairing and all but lose it if they lose their mate. Lincoln’s father was an Alpha as was his, and his…but every so often, such as in the case of an untimely death of an Alpha with no male heirs, they can gain the title the old-school way: a fight to the death of any other contenders.
He can already tell this is what is shaping up in Erica’s Pack, but her idea is not the best. Integrating Packs is tricky and she, as an Alpha mate, or former Alpha mate, will be demoted in a big way. In fact, her entire Pack will be. His and Liv’s situation is unique in that they got to pick their Pack. They got to handpick the best and brightest and there isn’t a weak one among them. Normally they just inherit the one from the former Alpha, but Lincoln didn’t have one. Not after they were slaughtered along with his parents, brother, and sister in the early 1930s.
They lived in Vancouver then, and after their deaths he headed to Chicago, a Pack-less Alpha with an aggressive streak that was on the rise due to having no mate and no Pack. Added to his degenerating mind was the booze and he got hauled in numerous times for brawling. He thought briefly about signing up and getting himself shipped off to Europe to fight the war, but he never could have Shifted at the full moon with a platoon surrounding him every second of every day. That’s when he caught the attention of the gangsters. They needed a hit man and he needed a release. It worked out well for a while. He was good at the job, too good, as he felt nothing. He was cold and hard, and it wasn’t even living. It was just existing. That is when he met Lou. She was a Feline Shifter and so pretty and sweet. She tried to fix him, but he was too broken. He thinks somewhere deep down he had real feelings for her, but he didn’t show them, he couldn’t. She eventually got fed up with him, not that he blames her, and her parting gift was a trace of Wolves in Romania. Biggest mistake of his life. Or was it?
Yes, the cursed time was awful. Lonely and gut-wrenching and all he had time to do was think. But then there was Liv. Astralling into the forest to face her fears and she knew him. She fixed him, in every way. She made him whole again. His heart broke for her as she shed her tears as she sat on the muddy wet ground stroking him. He knew then that they were meant to be together. She told him all of her thoughts and what she had just witnessed and heard about what her sire had done. The first secrets she ever told him. He doesn’t know how she can forgive Constantine. Every time, just like that. He tells her he’s sorry and that he loves her, and she crumbles into a million pieces around him, taking him back and telling him how much she loves him and that he isn’t a monster.
Vampires: Weird. Ass. Race.
He hates how her sire manipulates her. All the tiny little things that he does, subtler than subtle, barely imperceptible, but Lincoln sees them. Constantine has his tells. No, that’s not quite right, he always has his features perfectly under control, it is her. She has her tells when it comes to him. Her sire knows exactly what to do or say to get her to respond to him. He uses the knowledge he has of her to twist her. Lincoln has no doubt that he loves her, but he does wonder about the sincerity. It seems more of an obsession, a complete fixation on her. She once accused him of only wanting her because he suddenly couldn’t after she married Cole. Constantine denied it, but he thinks it is true.
He jumps as a crash on the other side of the wall jolts him out of his errant thoughts. He turns towards it as another crash sound is heard. Devon has that room. He doesn’t even want to know. Unfortunately, his overly sensitive hearing can’t help but hear the cries of Jess yelling at Devon for being “an insensitive jerk”. He eavesdrops for a bit longer, only because he can’t help but overhear them, but then clears his throat and decides that somehow trying to switch off his hearing is better than listening to Devon roughly fucking her. Man alive. Vampires run blazing hot, but as hot as it burns, it dies within minutes. They are a bipolar bunch if he ever came across any.
His thoughts go back to Liv in that place. He is really worried about her now. He thought it was somehow the place draining her of her energy, but when Remiel said it was her trying to fight off her Dragon form, that has him
concerned. He tries to get a fix on her, but she isn’t receptive. That probably means that she is up and about and concentrating on something else. Or…well, he tries not to think about the “or.”
“Remiel,” he says softly. “Can you hear me?”
Remiel pops up in front of him and he drops his pen, startled. “Yes, young Wolf. I can hear you.”
Lincoln grimaces at him and says, “You can call me Lincoln.”
Remiel inclines his head gracefully and he realizes, belatedly, that they have never even been properly introduced. But then why would they be? He mustn’t forget the fact that this creature has been torturing Liv for weeks now, regardless of this truce or whatever it is they have going on.
“Why the summons?” Remiel asks.
“I can’t get to Liv. Can you check on her?” he asks bluntly.
“You are worried about her? She is fine,” he says dismissively.
“How do you know?” Lincoln asks.
He shrugs and says, “I checked on her myself not a few moments ago.”
“Oh.” Now this is really creeping him out. A few days ago, he was trying to kill her and now he is checking on her well-being?
“Ask your question,” Remiel snaps at him.
“Err, no question,” he says, caught off guard.
“You want to know what has changed, don’t you? You and all the rest of them,” Remiel says.
Lincoln shrugs and says, “Maybe. It just seems a sudden change from the two of you being at each other’s throats, to you helping her.”
“Aefre and I have spoken about it. If she chooses to tell you then so be it. I am sure she will, what with you being her little secret-keeper and all,” he adds slyly.
He raises his eyebrow at that, how does Remiel know about that?
Remiel answers his unspoken question, “I, too, have been inside her head.” He sighs. “What a catastrophe. How she manages even basic functions with those racing thoughts is beyond me.”
Lincoln snickers despite himself. “I was just thinking the same thing myself.”
They smile at each other. He wants to say it’s sinister, but it’s not quite all there.
“Could you just check on her again, please?” he asks after a few awkward moments.
Remiel narrows his eyes at him and says, “I will do you one better and show you, for a price.”
“Why is everything a sale to you?” Lincoln asks, irritated.
“I have long since lost the ability to do favors.” He shrugs as if it is no big deal.
“Well, maybe you should learn again if you are going to be hanging around here. It seems pretty clear that Liv is not going to kill you, so I can only assume, knowing her as I do, that she is going to try and fix you.”
“I already told her, I don’t need fixing,” he says in a huff, and Lincoln grins smugly, having pinned the tail neatly in place on the donkey…err, Demon-Spirit thing.
“And yet, she will try. Whatever your issues were and now are not, if you hurt her again, I will find a way to do you in myself.”
“Indeed,” Remiel says dryly. “But I can assure you, Mr. Anderson, that my intentions are honorable.”
It comes as no surprise that this beast knows his last name. He would bet there are very few things he doesn’t know about anything. As for his intentions being honorable, Lincoln has his serious doubts about that.
“In that case, you should show me that Liv is okay out of the goodness of your heart. Err, if you still have one?” Lincoln asks, wrinkling his forehead. “I mean no offense,” he quickly adds as Remiel’s face goes thunderous, “but I am struggling to grasp just what exactly it is you are.”
Remiel’s face goes melancholy in a microsecond and he thinks he runs as hot and cold as the Vampires. “I sometimes wonder that too,” he says. “Very well, you have me convinced. I can see that you really care about her. The others…”
“The others what?” Lincoln presses, curious as to what he was going to say.
“Have ulterior motives,” Remiel says with a frown. “Not that you don’t have your own agenda, of course, but theirs are, hm, well…to put it nicely, not what she is looking for.”
“What do you mean?” he asks and sits forward, now intrigued.
“Oh no. You don’t get that from me. Ask her yourself what she truly wants,” he replies to Lincoln’s annoyance.
He frowns, sure he is just shit-stirring. “Show me,” he says, bringing the matter back to the one at hand. Remiel holds his hand up and he puts his against it. He is surprised Remiel doesn’t have a barrier up. He always seems so fond of those damn things.
“Close your eyes,” he mutters.
Lincoln does and he can see her. She looks beautiful in a long sweeping gown to match her violet eyes; she is in flat shoes which makes him chuckle – she will hate that – but she looks so delicate next to the tower of a man she is standing next to. Drake, he presumes. He is placing a crown of…Lincoln squints in his mind's eye to get a better look, black roses with long stems that have been intricately woven together to form a perfect circle, the thorns visible on the stems. She tilts her head in acceptance and he picks up her hand and kisses it. She smiles serenely back, and he says words in a language Lincoln has never heard before, obviously Faerie speak, and he is fairly sure by the bored look in her eye that she has no idea what he is saying either. Another tall man standing on her other side, leans down to whisper in her ear and she smiles up at him and nods. Translator, maybe? He looks just like Drake. He wonders if that is one of her brothers. Brothers. That is a really strange thought.
And then Lincoln sees him.
He nearly drops his hand from Remiel’s in shock. But there he is, no doubt about it, dressed in old-nobility style and, with a mischievous grin, which she returns, clearly not in the least bit surprised to see him, he bows and takes her hand and gracefully leads her down the aisle, whispering something to her Lincoln doesn’t get that she laughs at. His eyes fly open as Remiel takes his hand away with a look that says he knows exactly what is going on.
“Sebastian?” Lincoln snaps at him. “What the fuck is all that about? Why is he there?”
Chapter 12
Kingdom of the Dark Fae, March 2013 - Sebastian (Kalen)
“You look absolutely ravishing,” Sebastian says to Liv.
She smiles at him. It’s a small smile that barely touches her lips but lights up her whole face.
“Thank you,” she says and flicks her dark hair over her shoulder.
“I like this look on you, but I prefer your natural blonde-ness,” he says with a sidelong glance at her and she laughs.
“Can’t have everything,” she says. “Trying to please everyone is getting to be very tiring.” She stifles a yawn.
He chuckles at her and says, “Is it siesta time?”
She snorts prettily behind her hand. “It’s always siesta time,” she replies.
They have by now reached the end of the hall and her Coronation is officially over. She relaxes visibly and he can see now how weary she is. Having little blood and her Dragon desperate to come out has her exhausted. He turns to Drake. “I will escort her back to her room. She needs a rest.”
Drake sneers at him. “A rest? She has only been up a couple of hours.”
Drake’s derision irritates him. “She is your daughter; you should at least have the courtesy of learning about her after everything she has just done for you.”
She puts her hand on his arm to pacify him, but he shakes it off and faces off with her father.
Drake glares down at him and he finds that very annoying. At his height, there are very few people who are taller than him.
“Enlighten me then, Prince Kalen. You seem to know her so well,” Drake sneers at him.
He ignores the sarcastic use of his title. He is here under invitation as the Princess’s chosen one, and he would do well to keep things amicable. “She is hungry and fighting off a Shift. Keeping her here is weakening her,” Sebastian whispers to him
.
She makes a small noise in the back of her throat, and he knows he has angered her by calling her weak. But Drake must know that she is a hungry Vampire with a Dragon alter ego that is desperate to come out and start slaying his people.
Drake narrows his eyes at him and steps closer. “Take her to her room and feed her yourself. And you keep that Shift from happening. I can assure you; you do not want that thing coming out here.”
“No, I can assure you, you don’t want Her coming out here,” Sebastian retorts and Drake’s eyes blaze briefly, but he isn’t stupid. He knows it will be a catastrophe. For everyone.
“She needs to be here for the feast tonight. She is free to leave here tomorrow.” He turns to Liv and adds, “You must return, though, for the next full moon, for your Union.” He sighs and pulls his shoulders up. “I will allow you to bring someone to keep you sustained. Any form of weakness will not be tolerated.” He says it so quietly she has to lean forward to catch it. She nods her thanks stiffly, still not happy to be called weak in any circumstances. She turns on her heel and stalks off. Sebastian glares at Drake, he nods back to him and then he follows her, grabbing her elbow. “Don’t be mad with me, Princess,” he says. “He had to know what you are feeling.”
