Until Vlad ended her life.
Had Mircea convinced Rosalee that they should be mated, that they were perfectly suited, there would’ve been no stopping them.
Now Vlad must pay.
He wasn’t fool enough to think he could ever best his brother. On the contrary, Vlad would separate his head from his shoulders with little effort, just as Vlad had Rosalee. Besides, ending his life wouldn’t mete out the suffering he aimed for.
Instead, he’d take out the one thing dear to him.
Kane.
Mircea would be even with Vlad. He’d be free to find a mate and finally be able to live his life in peace. His family tree had all but died out. It was time he found someone to carry on his lineage.
To make sure Vlad wouldn’t dare to retaliate, Mircea would threaten to take Kaleb’s son. Oh, he wouldn’t be so cruel as to kill a child, though he’d lead them to believe the child was dead. Mircea would raise him to be a mirror image, and make damn sure he never knew his real father and mother.
Chapter 15
“What’s that smile on your face, Kimber?” Tena asked as she sauntered up to the main desk at the library where Kimber was checking in books.
Heat crawled up Kimber’s neck and warmed her cheeks as she tried to suppress her smile. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You can’t play coy with me. You may think I didn’t notice you and your sexy, to-die-for neighbor doing a little disappearing act the other night at Murphy’s, but I did.”
Kimber raised her gaze. “Preacher didn’t notice, did he?”
Tena’s brows met over the bridge of her nose. “Why?”
“It’s nothing, really.” Kimber scanned a couple more books. “It’s just Anton would rather his biker friends didn’t know about us.”
“So there is an us?” Her coworker clapped her hands and giggled. “I knew something was going on between the two of you. How is he in bed?”
“Tena!” Kimber did a quick sweep of the library with her gaze. Only two older ladies were on the second floor, and neither were within hearing distance. Still, she lowered her voice. “I’m not about to divulge details. Anton and I are just friends.”
“So you went down the hall, occupied the bathroom for about fifteen minutes by yourself.”
“Yes.” Kimber went back to checking in new books, busying herself so she wouldn’t have to look Tena in the eye. She was a horrible liar. “I wasn’t feeling well.”
“So said the woman who needed to use the restroom. She seemed a little put off.” Tena chuckled, then leaned in. “I know different, because I happened to see Rogue leave the ladies’ room about five minutes before you.”
“Preacher didn’t—”
“Relax.” She chuckled. “His attention was on me. Besides, his back was to the hall. Lucky for you, I was the one facing it.”
“I do hope you were careful with Preacher. You know literally nothing about the man.”
“I’m betting you know very little about your neighbor, and yet you were holing up in the ladies’ room together.”
The heat returned to Kimber’s cheeks. “I’ve known Anton for well over a year.”
“So then tell me about him. Parents? Past girlfriends? What’s his favorite food?”
Kimber took a seat on the counter-high stool behind the desk and sighed. “Okay. Point taken. I’ve known him for a while. I guess we’ve never shared anything really personal. Now that you mention it, I might’ve been a bit more forthcoming than he has been.”
In fact, she really hadn’t thought to question him at all about his life as their relationship had never gone beyond the physical. They were friends with benefits, whether she liked it or not. He had bought her a dog to insure her safely, which meant he had to care somewhat beyond the physical, didn’t it? Something told her that if she started asking those kinds of questions, Anton would head for Santa Barbara as fast as his motorcycle could carry him.
Kimber frowned. “Okay, so I know very little about him. You know any more about Preacher?”
“His real name is Bobby Bourassa. How sexy is that?”
She chuckled. “I know Anton’s full name too, smarty pants.”
“I know he got his nickname because he used to be a preacher, that he grew up in foster care, then joined the Devils when he lost faith in humanity.” She punctuated her knowledge with a wide smile. “Oh, and he has twin cross tats on his shoulders that I find super sexy. And may I just say, he looks like he’s been working out for years. His arms are delish!”
Kimber placed another stack of books in front of Tena. One of her eyebrows raised. “You didn’t take him home, did you?”
“No.”
“Then how did you see his tattoos?”
“He had on a T-shirt under his leather. He raised his sleeve, Miss Gutter Mind.” Tena gave her a toothy grin, telling Kimber she jested. “I tried getting him back to my place. He wasn’t having it.”
“Ooooh … you little tart.” Chad approached the two of them, his shift having just started. “The big guy turned you down flat? Say it isn’t so.”
Tena slapped Chad’s shoulder. “I don’t have to sleep with someone the moment I meet them.”
“Could’ve fooled me, girlfriend.”
“How about you?” Tena pushed a stack of books in Chad’s direction. “You get the pants off the man you were chasing?”
“You know it.” He grabbed the pile of books and headed for the bookshelves. Looking back over his shoulder, he said, “He was delicious with a capital D. I might even consider seeing him a second time.”
Kimber laughed, enjoying the newly developed camaraderie. A few weeks ago, they wouldn’t have thought to talk about their dating lives around her. To think she had missed out on all this fun because she had come across as a stick in the mud.
“So Preacher turned you down?” Kimber asked, truly surprised.
Tena’s cheeks reddened. “It was worth a try. Couldn’t let all that hotness go to waste, could I?”
“I thought he looked pretty interested.”
“Oh, he’s interested.” Tena’s gaze lit, her smile reaching her eyes. “He said he’d like to get to know me while he’s in town. Said he wasn’t into one-night stands. Wasn’t his style.”
“I suppose that’s good. But how much can you really get to know him in a short amount of time? Hard telling how long they’ll be in the area.”
“Preacher said they would be around for a while, and that he and Rogue had a job to do. Until then, they’d be staying at Rogue’s.”
Anton had mentioned something about as long as it takes the other night. Kimber couldn’t help wonder what job they spoke of. She liked having Anton back at the farmhouse. Spending more time with him made her pulse quicken. She hoped this job had nothing to do with the Sons of Sangue or put him in any kind of real danger.
Kimber thought about what Tena had said, that she didn’t really know much about Anton. Maybe it was time to find out what made the man tick.
* * *
Alexander walked from his room at the clubhouse, zipping up a pair of jeans. The material hung low on his hips, since he hadn’t bothered with a shirt. His senses told him he was completely alone, not that he cared. He’d walk around nude if he so chose. Modesty wasn’t a part of his vocabulary. Now that the baby was out of the house, no one would be there to care about his state of dress.
Kaleb and Suzi had taken the first load of their belongings to their new townhouse. He didn’t expect them back for hours, no doubt wanting to break in every surface while baby Stefan took his naps. At least that’s what the hell he’d be doing.
Ryder had gone to the Rave following work at K&K Motorcycles. The man seemed to have settled into his vampire lifestyle easily enough. The donors lined up when he graced the Rave with his presence. He had the whole dark and dangerous look about him that women seemed to love. With Grayson off the market, a good share of them had set their sights on Ryder. If they weren’t looking to g
et into his pants, then it was Grigore’s, big lovable oaf. Alexander chuckled.
He was more than happy to have the donors’ sights set elsewhere. For now, he preferred an occasional fuck, but nothing long standing. Let his brothers fend them off. Alexander was not in the market for a woman, and word had gotten around quick enough, leaving his dance card pretty open.
Rolling his neck, a series of cracks traveled down his vertebrae as he worked the kinks out. Alexander hadn’t arrived home until damn near dawn, partying well into the night with Ryder and Grigore, neither of whom came home. His skin had a rosy glow, having had fed the night before from Cathy. Ivy had offered, but something about the friendly, dark-blonde had drawn him. Cathy put him at ease. She was straight forward with no ulterior motives, such as trying to get into his pants or looking to land herself one of the Sons. She seemed more interested in the barkeep.
Alexander preferred his communion straight up, with no strings.
He didn’t want to feel as if he had to fuck every donor or appease their egos. He wanted his nourishment without the addition of drama. No small talk, and no way in hell was he going to go down the same road as the twins, or Grayson. His brothers were family. Children were not a part of his vocabulary. Oh, he loved Stefan all right, even delivered the little bugger’s ass, but he liked him best when he could spoil him, then send him home.
Dark hair and skin the color of melted chocolate came to mind, causing him to blaspheme. Not that he didn’t like the exotic donor, India. Quite the opposite, in fact. The thought of her caused an ache in his groin, one he had no intention of appeasing. He had used her as a regular donor in the past, until his fucking emotions got caught up.
Alexander easily recalled the night Grigore had shown up at the Rave, looking for nourishment like it was yesterday. Fuck it had happened well over a year ago. India stood down the bar from Alexander, while he was busy chatting with a little redhead on X. He was trying his damnedest to disentangle himself when Grigore walked up and palmed India’s delicious backside. Of course, he couldn’t fault Grigore. His brother had no idea Alexander had any interest in the dark-skinned beauty, because he had never treated her as anything other than a donor, keeping his attraction to himself. Grigore leaned down and whispered something close to her ear, causing her to giggle and blush. Women naturally flocked to the big guy, and India hadn’t seemed to be any different.
Christ, he had hoped for better from her.
Just thinking about Grigore’s hand on her ass, even over a year later, brought his blood to a slow slimmer. Alexander had never made a claim on India, but he had thought his interest had been quite obvious. When Grigore took a handful of one side of her ass cheeks, he had wanted to deck his brother.
Alexander had seen red, his vampire self close to the surface.
India hadn’t bothered to remove his brother’s hand, which only added to the fire burning in his gut. When Alexander had finally managed to extricate himself from the pain in the ass, drugged out redhead, he left the Rave, and never once asked what had transpired between his MC brother and India.
No matter, Alexander had avoided India ever since.
Like the plague.
Alexander’s father had doted on his mother for years, telling everyone who would listen to the drunken fool, she was the love of his life. The man had been fucking blind. While she was slipping out with the guys from the neighborhood pub, bringing home baubles his father could never afford, he sat home drinking himself into a stupor. And when his father was too drunk to take care of his only son, his mom would drag Alexander to the bar. He’d sit on a stool in the corner, watching the television, while the flavor of the month had his hand up his mother’s skirt.
Which pretty much summed up his young life, until the night his mother and he had come home and found his father in a pool of his own vomit. The man had drowned in his own puke, leaving him with a woman who didn’t deserve that kind of devotion, or the kid she had been saddled with.
Alexander walked around the bar and grabbed a bottle of Jack, noting they’d soon need to restock, especially with Grigore moving in. He peeled off the plastic wrap, then screwed off the plastic cap and took the bottle to his lips. After a long pull, he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. The one thing he missed after his turning was the ability to get good and drunk. The warmth and momentary buzz was too damn short lived for his liking.
His recent thoughts of India had him wishing for the drunken stupor.
Maybe his father’s thinking hadn’t been so fucked up after all. Drowning himself in alcohol helped deaden the reality of a faithless wife. Alexander took another long pull, then slammed the bottle back on the counter, leaving it uncapped. As long as he kept women at bay, then there was no chance he’d wind up a fool like his father.
Walking to the clubhouse restroom, he stood in front of the commode and unzipped his pants, pulled out his cock and began to relieve himself.
“Oh…”
Alexander turned his head, just in time to see India’s blush before she disappeared around the corner. He quickly finished, shoved his cock back into his pants, and zipped the jeans, not bothering with the button before turning to chase her down.
What the hell was she doing here?
Better yet, how had he missed the arrival of her scent?
Apparently, he had been too wrapped in his own thoughts and the bottle of Jack to detect he was no longer alone. He quickly washed his hands and grabbed the hand towel upon his exit. India had reached the front door when he called out to her. She stopped and turned her head, her hand still on the door handle, ready to bolt.
Her beauty was like a fucking wrecking ball, damn near knocking him from his feet.
“Looking for Wolf?” He raised one of his brows. “He doesn’t live here … yet anyway. You’re early. He’ll be moving in sometime next week if you want to come back.”
“Wolf?” The warm vibrato of her voice smoothed over him and grabbed hold of his cock. She let go of the door handle and walked in his direction. “Why do you hate me so much, Xander?”
Down boy. “You give yourself too much credit.”
“Excuse me?”
“Hating you is an emotion which requires me to first care.”
“Wow.” India crossed her arms beneath her breasts, looking extremely annoyed with him. “Was that supposed to hurt?”
“Cut the bullshit, India. I detest small talk. Why are you here?”
“I was looking for Suzi.”
“Why?”
“Christ, Xander, you want my fucking itinerary while you’re at it? I said I would babysit while they moved their shit. I was running late.”
Alexander rubbed a hand over his chest, noting her gaze followed the trail, stopping on the unbuttoned area of his jeans. He had the insane urge to pull out his cock, to see if she’d continued to watch. Instead, he walked over to the bar, not inviting her to have a drink with him, or to tell her to get the fuck out, though the latter at the moment was the bigger temptation.
“Apparently, you’re very late. They’ve already left and I doubt they’ll be back today.”
“Damn it.” India placed her hands on her hips and looked to the floor.
“What’s the big deal? So, they moved their shit without your help. Trust me, they won’t hold it against you. What kept you anyway?’
India sniffed. “None of your business.”
Alexander studied her. Had she been crying? Damn it, he hated to see a woman cry, even one he disliked. Already feeling his resolve softening, he asked, “Everything okay?”
Her lower lip trembled. Against his better judgment, Alexander skirted the bar and pulled the dark beauty into his embrace. He had always been a sucker for women’s tears. Her sobs wet his bare shoulder. Smoothing a hand down her back, the sweet scent of her blood wafted to his nose and elongated his fangs. He ignored the hunger burning his gut. Even though he had recently fed, her blood had a way of calling to him like the finest of whiskeys.
India stepped back from his hold and swiped her hands beneath her eyes, spreading the salty wetness across her flushed cheeks. “I’m sorry. I should go.”
“You want to talk about it?”
A sob bubbled up. India covered her mouth with trembling fingers and shook her head. “I shouldn’t have come.”
Alexander grabbed the whiskey bottle from the bar and handed it to her. “Here. It will make you feel better.”
She took the open bottle to her lips and took a small swig. Her answering grimace told him she wasn’t a fan of the warm amber liquid. India opened her mouth and gasped. “No wonder I never drink that shit.”
He chuckled and took the bottle back from her. “A few healthy swigs and you won’t even notice the burn or the taste.”
She grabbed the bottle back from him before he had a chance to set it back on the bar and took another tiny swig. Her shoulders shook in revulsion. “Yep. I’m pretty sure I don’t like the stuff.”
Alexander took the bottle and set it on the bar between him. “So what are you trying to drown away with the whiskey?”
India glanced back at the door, no doubt weighing her options of staying or getting the hell away from him. Decision made, she walked over to the bar and pulled out a stool and sat. Her forefinger indicated the Jack bottle. “You have anything else besides that to drink?”
Alexander opened the wine cooler door. “Looks like there’s a couple bottles of red in here. Otherwise it’s water or whiskey.”
“Is it sweet?”
“How the hell would I know? I don’t drink the stuff.”
His response earned him a chuckle. “Whatever. It has to be better than the whiskey.”
Alexander used a knife to cut the seal, then looked at the cork. He started rummaging through the drawers and finally came up with a corkscrew. Making short work of it, he pulled the cork with a pop, and set the dark bottle in front of her.
Rogue (Sons of Sangue Book 4) Page 16
