Paranormal Nights (Paranormal Romance Boxed Set)

by CJ Ellisson

  A roar snatched her attention from her body, the sound followed by a flaring white light that blinded her for the briefest of moments and then blackness swallowed her whole.

  For real this time. Because, well, she passed the fuck out.

  *

  Griffin Linch, vampire and Knight Protector, grunted when the woman behind him slumped against his back. He ignored the lush curves that conformed to his body. The scent of her poison-tainted blood wafted over him and he fought to keep his fangs from bursting through his gums. He wouldn’t sample her, wouldn’t savor the promising taste of her as she poured across his tongue.

  Fuck-fuck-fuck. Just imagining her life-giving fluid filling him had his cock hardening in his leathers. Her scent tantalized him, rose above the stench of garbage, pixie remains, and their poison, to reach deep into him. The hints of wildflowers and sunshine covered him, surrounded him in their comforting embrace.

  He was so fucked.

  As the last of the pixies turned to ash, their human blood-filled bodies unable to withstand the burst of dragon’s fire from his amulet, the body against him shifted. He felt the woman he craved slide and he spun to catch her, cradling her Rubenesque form against his chest.

  The pale light of the street lamp danced across her features to reveal her fiery hair, a pert nose and plump lips that he ached to taste. Her body felt perfect against him, as if she were made for him and him alone. He was desperate to strip her bare, discover her secrets and worship her body. His fangs ached, the desire to nibble her from head to toe nearly overwhelming.

  It shouldn’t be this way. Griffin had met his fair share of beautiful women, tasted them even, but those feelings were nothing compared to the lovely in his arms.

  She moaned and twitched, jerked against his hold and he could sense the pixie’s poison digging deeper into her. Bites from the bastards peppered her face and neck, covered her exposed chest and lingered on her arms. A growl built from within, and the need to bring the creatures back just to kill them again coursed through his veins.

  The woman’s muscles spasmed and tightened beneath his hold.

  Damn it.

  He wasn’t supposed to be doing this. The laws of the Knight Protectors forbade getting involved in the balance between life and death. They had one job: protect the city from the Broken, those that had strayed from the path, ignoring the laws that governed their particular species. Period. If a human managed to live through an encounter with a Broken, the protectors were authorized to glamour those unfortunates into forgetting everything they’d seen. But truly saving a life, snatching them from death’s clutches, went against every decree he’d sworn to uphold centuries ago.

  And for the first time in his life he was ready to push those laws to their breaking point.

  Tightening his grip on the injured woman, Griffin pulled his cell phone from his pocket and placed his thumb on the screen, waiting as it verified his identity and granted him access to its contents. Pressing a single number, he waited for the call to be answered.

  “Go.” The deep voice of his fellow Protector boomed into the night.

  “Need an alley pickup between 6th and Lawrence. There’s blood in the wind, so I’m guessing we also need a cleanup six blocks south or so.”

  “Done.” The phone quieted with that single word and he knew that one of the other vamps in the Ring would come for him. Out of the ten other vamps, including their Sovereign, there had to be someone available. Hell, he’d even take a Novice in training.

  Griffin kept his hold tight on the female as he reached down and snatched her discarded purse, grasping it firmly in his hand. He scooped her into his arms and stepped to lean against the stone wall of the alley, holding her insignificant weight with ease.

  The woman whimpered and twitched, lids fluttering and he got a fleeting glimpse of her sparkling green eyes. The wounds peppering her skin no longer bled the bright red of pure blood. No, the burgundy hue had changed to a near-black, proof of the poison pounding through her system.

  That damned ride needed to arrive.

  No sooner had the thought entered his mind that one of the Protector’s SUVs pulled up to the curb. With a glance down the street, Griffin strode to the vehicle, wrenched the back door open and piled inside with his slight burden.

  “Drive.” His voice held a hint of his inner demon, the woman’s presence having brought him to his basest needs.

  “Griff? What the fuck, man?”

  “To my home, Simond. Now.” The other vamp, another Protector, did as he asked, shooting Griffin a glare before turning around and getting their truck on the move.

  In relative safety, Griffin did what he’d been aching to do since the first glimpse of the woman. He pulled her into his lap, cuddling her close as he bared his fangs and slid them into the vulnerable skin at her neck. The stranger twitched and fought against him, her weak movements no challenge against his strength. He pulled at the wound, suckled the holes he’d created. The acidic tang of the pixie’s blood flowed over his tongue and he fought to keep his mouth in place. Pure, the poison would have killed him, but diluted by her life-giving fluid, it simply decimated his palate.

  The enzymes in his saliva would help what was to come. She needed this. Blood for blood and she’d…

  “Griffin?” Simond’s voice was censuring, a warning clear in his tone.

  Another suckle at the slices in her skin and he released her, baring his fangs at his friend and brother Protector. “Mine.”

  Ignoring the shock that crossed Simond’s features, he tore at his wrist and made a fist, releasing and tightening until blood pooled along his pale skin. He pressed the wound to this stranger’s mouth, this woman who called to him like no one else in over three hundred years.

  “Drink.” Her head tossed from side to side, eyelids lifting and falling, but refusing to remain open as she attempting to fight him. He tightened his grip, forcing his wrist snug against her lips. “Drink.”

  Those plump lips shifted against his cool skin, her heat searing him as her tongue lapped at the tear in his wrist. She suckled and then moaned, flexible muscle going back for more and more of his blood, the fluid that would save her life…and tie them together for eternity. He’d be able to find her anywhere now.

  With every draw, his cock hardened further beneath her, throbbing and silently demanding to be sheathed in her warm, wet heat. Perverted fuck that he was, his brain agreed.

  Her wounds healed before his eyes, her body purging the last of the poison before sealing every nick and scratch caused by the pixies. And still she drank. The healthy flush of life imbued her cheeks and her labored breathing eased.

  Those green orbs were revealed once again, new life shining in their depths. And then they drifted closed as she fell into a natural sleep.

  Part of him worried over how much she took, but the primal part of him that lay just beneath the thin veneer of humanity relished the ability to heal his mate.

  Fuck, fuck and fuck again.

  With a final sigh, she released his wrist and he brought it to his mouth, sealing the tear with a single swipe of his tongue.

  “What. The. Fuck, man?” Simond’s voice yanked him from his mate.

  “She’s mine, Simond.”

  “Dude. I’m all for doing the dirty with humans. Hell, they’re even a nice snack now and again. But, that was not a snack. That was a fucking buffet and it was the wrong one of ya doin’ the buffet-ing.”

  Griffin bared his fangs at his friend, snarls and growls filling the dark interior of the car.

  “Okay, man, okay. Don’t getcha panties in a bunch. I’m just sayin’ that Carac’s gonna hear about this and—”

  Carac, their Sovereign, the Master vampire that held them together, guided them as they protected the city. Elder and more powerful than all the city’s Protectors combined, he was judge, jury and executioner for all Others in Atlanta. And he wouldn’t be surprised if the vampire came after him for the night’s events.

&nb
sp; “Don’t. Give me until daybreak, Simond and I’ll release her. I vow it.” Griffin stroked her rosy cheek with a single finger, traced the slope of her nose and the outline of her tempting lips.

  “It’s the first exchange, Griff.”

  “I know.” His cock throbbed at the thought of doing another…then going further and completing their bond with a third. Thrice bound…

  But it was impossible. He would have this tempting siren out of his system come morning.

  He had no other choice.

  Chapter Two

  Wren was slow to wake, mind pushing through the cotton and syrup that seemed to surround her head as she was thrust from unconsciousness. Memories, vivid and disturbing, assaulted her…fairy light flying things…fluttering wings…fierce, man-eating, what-the-fuck teeth!

  And a savior… God, even as she’d been bleeding in a disgusting alley, she couldn’t forget the mountain of a man. He’d saved her, cradled and protected her from what was probably her own fucked up mind.

  And hot. At least, her fuzzy memory thought he was hot. He’d had short, dark hair, slightly long on top, but just enough to grab when he was between her… Ahem. Anyway. He’d had a strong jaw, kissable (not that she knew for sure) lips and eyes that seemed to glow in the darkness that had surrounded them. He’d been snarling and gruff, but gentle as he’d held her close to him.

  Wren really hoped he hadn’t been a delusion, too. That would suck.

  Pulling at her eyelids, she forced her eyes open, the feeling of sand grating over the sensitive tissues bringing tears forward. Rolling her head to the side, she looked for the clock that sat on her bedside table, only to find it…gone. Of course, her bedside table wasn’t there, either. It’d been replaced by some gold-gilded, frou-frou furniture that looked like it belonged in Buckingham Palace. Last time she’d checked, she lived in a tiny studio apartment with second-hand furniture.

  Another shift of muscles and she was looking to her right. Huh. There was a matching table there.

  Lovely.

  Groaning, she rose to her elbow, skin pulling and stretching, as if she no longer fit inside herself. A glance around the room reveled that Dorothy was not in Kansas and Wren had truly jumped off the deep end. Plus, she was naked beneath the thin sheet that covered her.

  The soft click of the door drew her attention and she watched as her super-hunk came through the portal, a tray of what she assumed was food balancing on one hand. A wide smile graced his features and her heart tripped, beat thumping in an uneven rhythm.

  He was more beautiful than she’d imagined. His shoulders were wide, nearly as wide as the doorway, and his added height made him intimidating. Yet she sensed a hidden kindness in him. His eyes didn’t glow as she’d thought, but were an ice-like blue. She had no doubt that his stare could shift from tender to fierce in an instant, melting or freezing his target between one blink and the next. His lips were just as tempting as she recalled.

  Wren’s naughty bits responded to his presence, body growing slick, lower lips heavy and aching with desire for this man.

  She really wanted to stick with this delusion for a while. Otherwise, in real life, she was just some post-attack chick who was suddenly hot for a stranger. And wasn’t that just fucked?

  “You’re awake. Good.” His voice rolled over her, imbued her with a sense of calm and safety, cradling her in his warmth just as before.

  He strode toward her and laid the tray on the nearby table before settling on the bed beside her. His scent surrounded her and she inhaled deeply, savoring the hints of musk and something more that seemed to permeate the air. It called to her, beckoned her to come closer and roll in his flavors.

  This wasn’t her. Well, it was her, just not her-her. Her body ached, not from pain any longer, but pure attraction and need. Her pussy clenched, nipples hardening and suddenly she had a singular thought.

  Him. In her. Now. Was that three thoughts?

  Wren licked her lips and watched his as his gaze followed the movement of her tongue.

  “I am.” She purred. And Wren was not a purr-er by nature. Ever. Not once. Well, not before him, anyway.

  Weird.

  He reached out and brushed away a strand of hair before tracing the shape of her face. A single, cool finger slid over her skin, along her cheek to her chin and then stroked her lower lip. She flicked her tongue out and lapped at the digit, the coolness of his skin the only thing that yanked her from her arousal’s control.

  “You’re frozen.” She pulled away from his touch. It was summer, so it wasn’t like the guy had been out in the snow and suddenly stroked her with chilled hands. Nope, only one thing she knew of that had a seriously icy body temp.

  “Are you…” What the hell did they call themselves again? Vamps? Blood suckers? Undead? Or were they never dead? Gah, she couldn’t ever keep up with all the politically correct terms for Others.

  “A vampire? Yes.” His smiled turned to a smirk. “Unless you know of something else that could have saved you from the pixies.” He reached up and traced her collarbone.

  “Pixies?” A shudder traveled through her, starting at her toes, pausing at her pussy and then on to her head, stopping at her nipples for an invisible tweak. His cool touch sent a spear of desire strait to her core as if it were his fingers playing between her thighs, stroking her inner walls. “P-pixies aren’t real… There are shifters and there are vamps. That’s it.”

  This man, this stranger, leaned forward, brought his lips close until barely a hair’s breadth separated them. “No? If I am real sweet Wren, why wouldn’t there be others?”

  She whimpered, his scent surrounding her, taunting her with what could be. She didn’t know what controlled her, what imaginary sex demon had taken over her body, but she wanted him. She craved his possession like her next breath and would do anything to have him buried deep in her pussy.

  Again, wasn’t that fucked?

  Wren kept her gaze focused on him, on his pale blue eyes, and watched as they darkened beneath her scrutiny. He breathed into her, around her, and she inhaled his essence with every rise of her chest.

  A brief sting flicked her lower lip and then his tongue was there, soothing the ache. “You’re delicious, Wren. My little bird.”

  “H-how do you know my name?” She needed to stay coherent. His very presence was distracting her from the fucked-upped-ness of the situation. “Who are you? Why am I here? Pixies?”

  She was still stuck on the pixies thing. If they existed (and she still wasn’t convinced they were real) weren’t they supposed to be all friendly like fairies and Tinkerbell? Who’d ever heard of evil, cute flying things?

  “Your wallet.” Another nip. “Griffin.” A gentle lick and she shivered. “Because I want you here.” A scrape of his fang on her jaw. “And, yes, pixies.”

  Griffin, his name was Griffin.

  And the sinfully sexy Griffin continued his journey south, nuzzling her neck and nibbling her vulnerable skin. Arousal and fear warred within her as his mouth moved over her, tongue tracing the contours of her body.

  Goosebumps followed in his wake and he continued his travels, dipping lower and trailing over the mounds of her breasts.

  Wren sifted her fingers through his hair and fisted the strands, stilling his progress. “Wait. This isn’t right…it’s not…I don’t…”

  Griffin licked her skin then blew cool air over the damp surface. “What isn’t right, little bird?” His hands came into play then, cupping the fullness of her breasts, thumbs tracing her nipples. “This? It feels good, doesn’t it? Don’t you want me to make you feel good?”

  “But…” He pinched her hard nubs between thumb and forefinger, plucking the flesh in time with his licks over his chest. “Why am I acting this way?”

  “Let me have you, sweet Wren.” His voice was a whisper and she barely heard him over her panting breaths.

  Wren wanted him to have her, to fulfill the promises he was making with his talented hands, his sensuous lips
. “This isn’t me.”

  “I healed you little bird. You were wounded by the pixies and I gave you my blood to save you from their poison.”

  He kneaded her breasts and she squirmed, body growing hotter with every moment that passed. No, not just her body, his as well. As if the seductive vampire absorbed her heat and increased their shared warmth.

  “That’s why I want you?”

  Griffin raised his head, brushing his lips—his warm lips—across hers in a gentle caress. “Perhaps.”

  “And that’s why you want me?”

  He kissed her harder then, tongue delving between her lips and sweeping into her mouth. Hard and fast, he attacked her then disappeared as quickly as he’d pounced.

  “No, sweet Wren. I want you because you’re a lush beauty, pure and shining in my dark world. You’re a beacon, little bird. My very own bird of fire. Now shhh… Let me come to you.”

  Wren let go. Fuck it. If her delusion had been real and not, well, a delusion, she truly had been injured badly, blood trailing over her face and down her arms. She did vaguely remember him caring for her in the alley, a flash of fangs as she drifted in and out of consciousness…a cut lip…teeth buried in her neck…

  Tomorrow, she’d blame the blood for her slutastic behavior. Tomorrow.

  “Yes.” She flicked her tongue out and stole her first taste of him. Sweet, coppery mint exploded across her taste buds and she moaned against his mouth, delved deeper for more. She remembered the flavor of him and how delicious it’d been when he’d slid his teeth into her neck.

  Griffin returned her gentle assault, twining his tongue with hers. She stroked and tasted, sought out more of his cooled essence.

  Restless, she let her hands wander, slide over the soft fabric covering him, tugging and pulling at his clothing until the vampire broke their kiss. “Easy, Wren. Let me help.”

  Whimpering at his absence, she watched as he drew his shirt over his head then stood and divested himself of his pants, leaving him gloriously naked.

  Really. Glorious. Or, O-M-G-hawtness. Both worked.

  Wren licked her lips, mind whirling with ideas of what she could do to, and with, the man before her. She wanted to trace each of his muscles with her tongue, lap at the delicious lines at his hips and suck his cock into her mouth until he came.