by Scott, Talyn
“No, Sire, we double checked those since she didn’t know her pregnancy gestation. Dr. Holt confirmed this himself. However, I can get another doctor for you, if you’re concerned.”
“Female.”
“What?” Kash asked, reading over his shoulder. “She’s carrying a little female?”
Sixten handed the tablet back to the clinician. “Her blood levels are off.”
“Well,” she glanced at him quizzically, “she’s anemic.”
“I saw.” Big surprise there. “Other than that?”
“Nothing else, though that’s bad enough, considering the baby will draw everything it can from her body and she hasn’t enough iron stores, but we’re working on it.”
“Good enough.” He turned back to Kash and Oycher. “Has anyone told Adam?”
“Yeah,” Oycher said with a smirk. “He says you’re even now, since he gave you intel which aided in finding Blythe. Afterwards, he showed up at that meeting with the prince without giving anything away. In turn, you uncovered his female’s whereabouts. Not too happy about the pregnancy, though, but Adam wants to stick with her. We’ll see.”
“Maestru still has him locked up nice and tight?”
“Hell, yeah.” Oycher rolled his eyes. “I seriously doubt Amy will want to see him again. After all, she was his only Donor when he lived in Rave’s facility, not exactly a romantic situation conducive for mating. Anyway, Adam has a new neighbor in his cell block. Collin’s a scentless vampire the werewolves turned over to us. Went rogue overseas with his brother and then came to the states, attacking Gage MacGelton and family. Rumor has it – he knows the spells for immortal fire.”
“Which explains why he’s bunking next to Adam, Maestru shouldn’t spread his tethering magic so thin, huh,” Kash said.
“Maestru can handle it,” Oycher dismissed.
“He’s what...did you say he was scentless?” Sixten stammered.
“Scentless,” Oycher repeated. “We barely had him situated in his cell before someone up and nearly drained him.”
“He bleeds red or opaque?” Those empty blood bags in the closet...were they Collin's?
“Depends on who feeds him.”
“How many are guarding him?”
“Four now,” Oycher said. “Why?”
“Tell me if anything else happens with him, would you?”
“Not a problem, Six.” Oycher winked at the clinician. “A vampiress is just what the doctor ordered.” He sauntered over to her.
“She’s awake,” Kash said with his hand on Amy’s door. “Her heart’s steady. Let’s go.” He rapped on the door and then stepped inside, approaching her in measured steps. “Hello, Amy. I’m Kash and this is my friend. We’d like to ask you some questions.”
She nodded. Her tiny frame lost in the vastness of the bed, eyes as big as saucers. “Did you save me?”
“It was a combined effort,” Sixten spoke up, finding a stool so he wouldn’t appear so imposing to her. Plus his stomach was still funky. There wasn’t a seat for Kash, so he leaned against the nearest wall, sliding his feet across the floor so he seemed shorter. From her expression, both were futile efforts. “I’m sure you know that if we wanted to hurt you, we wouldn’t have brought you here for treatment.”
“I’m sure you realize,” she said, her voice quivering, “that I’ve been held in a medical facility for quite some time now. It’s not comforting to fine myself in another one.”
“As soon as Doc says you’re ready, we’ll find you a real home,” Kash promised. “You have my word.”
“I want to go to my old home,” she pleaded. “I’m told you are vampires. I don’t want any dealings with you after I leave.”
No one expected her to be shocked about vampires after everything she had seen and done. However, there was a foreseeable hitch in her plans. “And you’re carrying a child that isn’t entirely human,” replied Sixten softly, “which means you’ll need our help, and we’re offering it to you.” Demanding she accept it. He let it hang there, wanting her to unravel the threads on her own. She could not raise a powerful child, such as a Habaline youngling, without significant help. Just ask his mother. Amy would need another Habaline mixed blood or a Master vampire to control that child and nurture it into a respectable creature.
“What did you want to ask me?” She looked around, probably for a window, which she wouldn’t find underground. “I know that I’ve slept, but I’m so tired.”
“Several things, but we’ll start with a few questions and let you rest,” Kash said. “Did you see any particular vampires…creatures with black wings, shadowy bodies?”
“Twice,” she said, “and there were two of them. They looked alike, but one of them had more of an attitude, was always fighting with the man they referred to as him or he, but never by an actual name.”
“Was the man in a position of authority?”
“Definitely, he argued constantly with the one known as Poison, but he was his accomplice in every way.”
“And Poison let him get away with his insolence?” Sixten found that startling. “Did you see this man up close? Could you describe him to us? Did his eyes glitter?”
“I never saw Poison punish him. Nor did I get a good look at the man, so I can’t say if his eyes glittered. I’ll tell you, though; he has to be as big as you two and he was around when the one named Rave was.”
There were a few mortals as big as they were, but Poison wouldn’t tolerate a human berating him, he was too proud. Therefore, their mystery man was definitely an immortal. “Did you ever witness this man transforming into a winged creature, even from the distance you kept?”
“No, but rarely was I around him.”
“Besides captives, did you see other humans there, maybe in a working capacity?”
“I suspected some of the men working in the labs were humans, though I’m not sure. One man came in often, made me edgy even though he was smaller, definitely human.”
Kash asked her, “Did you get a name? Maybe you can describe him.”
“Rave referred to him as Giarusso, and, apparently, he was the first one they cured.”
Sixten stiffened. He knew Blythe’s brother had reprehensible dealings with the Habalines but refused to accept those dealings went back to his brother in particular. Wishful thinking. His fists clenched on his knees, his breathing picked up.
“Cured?” Kash asked. “Cured for what?”
“Cancer, they cured his cancer.”
Sixten whipped his head around, his eyes glittered now, brilliant in the dim room, sparkling across her bed. She cupped her throat, frowning, as though she would soon be sick. “Amy,” Sixten started.
“You’re one of them," she spat with hatred.
“I’m a halfling, yes.”
“Who are you?”
Now she was asking the questions, which meant this could all go downhill quickly. “Genetically, I’m one of them.” He closed his eyes. “Morally, I’m above them.” On most days.
“Sixten,” she whispered. “The one Poison ranted about, even in his sleep. You were the royal he needed. He’s crazy, you know, certifiable.”
“I’m not them, Amy. I’ve tried to kill Poison several times. So far, I’ve only managed to kill Rave.” Sixten said, opening his eyes and staring down at his boots. She made this choking sound, and if he thought she was going to be relieved by that admission, he could think again. Amy was horrified.
“Get away from me!”
Kash shook his head. “He’s the one who saved you, Amy, calm down.”
“Killing Rave? That makes no difference. You are the one that’s going to open the way. Poison bragged of this, threatened us with this knowledge daily!” Her breath left her chest in sudden, short spurts, her heart rate accelerating at an alarming pace. “Because of you, humans will never be free of those sickos!”
The clinician burst through the door, Oycher behind her. “I must ask you to leave.” In vampiric speed, she shot Amy’s IV u
p with something that made her eyes roll around in her head on impact.
“Amy, explain,” pleaded Sixten. Was this why the other shifters didn’t try to kill him last night?
“Come on, Six,” Kash insisted, pulling him into the corridor. “She’s out. We’ll get Oycher to work on her when she comes around. I don’t think you can come back here, considering her pregnancy. It’s risky for her and the baby.”
‘You’re like a key, Six,’ he remembered Qudir saying, ‘a freaking key opening their hidden lair.’ Qudir was right; every hiding place they had come across, Sixten had found the entry, opening it with his powers. “A key,” he repeated aloud. “Kash, we have to find that wormhole.”
“I’m still wondering what good it’s going to do when we haven’t figured out how to shut it down yet.”
Saying nothing, Sixten reached for the clothes Grim left them, heading to the showers, his footfalls resounding in short, measured clips.
“Ah, shit,” Kash called from behind, trailing him, “you’ve known all along, haven’t you?”
An opaque mist left the darkened stairwell in parts of three, one section reforming in the corridor, his watchful eyes on Sixten.
Chapter Twelve
Rock carried his little female in his arms, heading upstairs in the afterglow of the best night of his life, followed by a honeymoon day spent in the warm gulf waters. He was mated to an amazing female, couldn’t ask for one more beautiful or kind-hearted. And when she recovered from her ordeals, she would encompass a vigor rivaling any full blood female werewolf. That was something he was sure of, since he’d watched his Queen Tatum transform in that very way. Sure, it would take some time, but he would glory in watching her grow stronger every single day.
Even though he had lain with countless females, he had never bathed one. Considered a high honor only shared between werewolf mates, the act of bathing remained an intimacy males wanted to share with only their celestially appointed females. Even if he were ‘hot-tubbing’ or taking a dive in the ocean, he never allowed another female to stroke up against his skin while he was in the water.
Walking inside his bathroom, Rock sent a mental directive and turned on the shower. Blythe stayed perfectly still in his arms, relaxed against his chest. They hadn’t made love today, was afraid she might be sore from last night. Still, he was dying to touch her, to show her how he could heighten her orgasms with their mental connection. Something he refused to do yesterday, since Blythe was unused to his piercings and his size, her body overly sensitive from her mating heat.
“Let’s take your swimsuit off, baby.” Rock eased her to the bathroom floor, purposefully sliding her soft lushness against his hard body. Not that he wasn’t hard enough.
She pursed those plush lips, the ones he wanted wrapped around his cock. “I take it – this time, you’re joining me?”
“Uh huh.” He crouched low, caging her in with his arms, his protection. Flaring out his chest, he postured, sensing her little gasp hit his breastbone.
“Did all these tattoos hurt?”
Like a motherfucker. “Not too badly.” Lowering his mouth, he hooked his canines on one strap, easing it off her sun-kissed shoulder. “I think you like them.”
“I think they make me feel strange when I look at them.” She clutched him, hard, hanging onto his forearms, digging her tiny nails in his skin. “Are they be-spelled?”
“Strange?” It was hard to think with his blood leaving his brain and rushing his cock.
“Horny,” she groaned, running her delicate tongue over his pierced nipple.
That was when his Beast slammed his forehead. “Blythe?” Rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand, he blinked a few times.
“Yeah,” she said, staring up at him expectantly, biting the tip of her tongue between straight white teeth.
Swallowing a few times, he said, “I realize you may be a little sore, and I’m an understanding mate. But I need to be inside of you, even if it’s only my tongue.” Blue flared out, illuminating her body with his werewolf’s possession. “Just the taste of you in my mouth, running down my throat, will bring me satisfaction.” Another slam, this one was serious business. To top that off, his balls were pounding him just as badly.
“Okay.” She looked wary now, though that sweetness between her legs flowed invitingly.
“Okay, baby,” he echoed, gripping her hips and smacking her against the wall. “Sorry.” Her arousal wafted up to his nose, an increasing fragrance, before a slow moan left her moist lips. Yeah, he was right about her liking it rough. “Maybe I’m not sorry.”
Pulling one hand back, he extended his claws and shredded his swim shorts, and since she hated her swimsuit, he took hers with it. Rock kicked away the mess and retracted his claws before he lifted her high above his head. “Put those satiny thighs across my shoulders. Let me feel them against my skin.”
Startled, she stared down at him. “You’re going to drop me!”
“Obey your mate.” He refused to remind her that he had saved her from a bunch of vampire freaks, shapeshifters, and a crashing helicopter, but he was tempted to. The Beast banged his head again. “Trust me,” his voice was guttural, his body hotly aroused.
“Rock,” she whispered, wiggling.
Her plump pussy exposed to him, right at eye level, better yet – mouth level, was a knee-buckling sight. Curling his tongue around his left canine, his Beast burned for immediate gratification. “A whisper? Now, Blythe, you can do better than that.” One solid swipe up her center, he stopped his tongue just shy of her clitoris. Soft and sweet and hot on his tongue, his Beast growled with delectation. “I don’t want to hear my name whispered. No.” Another swipe, he ended with a curl over her clitoral hood, still teasing. “Say it like you mean it.”
“Umm,” she managed, her head lolling to the side.
Rock spun them, gripping her ass in one hand and her outer thigh in the other. As he walked her to the shower, he elongated his tongue in the werewolf way, sheathed himself with her pussy before he twirled, twirled, and twirled against her sensitive spot. He growled dangerously, his Beast rearing its head to wrap its canines around her throat, so it can hold her down and fuck her just as it did last night. The taste of her red-hot satiny flesh, the feel of the water running over him, and the musky taste of his very own female sent painful chills from his balls to the back of his neck. Moving two fingers to the top of her gorgeous slit, he pinched her swollen nub, holding it between his fingertips. His only relief came when she released, blanketing him with her flavor while convulsing on his mouth.
Her head whacked the shower wall, though that was her doing, not his. “Rock! Rock!”
Yeah, that was what he wanted to hear. He looked up her glorious body, watching her licking her dry mouth. In contrast, Rock tasted her cream as she coated his tongue. “So slick for me, I’m drinking you,” he rasped against her, his lips brushing her pussy. Ensuring that his claws had not punched back out again in the heat of their passion, he plunged one inside her warmth, circling it until it was as covered as his tongue was. She shuddered, gripping his head almost frantically, making this incredible sound in the back of her throat. Then he brought that finger to her mouth, sliding it over her cushiony bottom lip, and nearly lost his seed when she sucked herself off him. He gasped, pulling back from her most intimate flesh. “One day soon, you will come on my cock, and then suck it off that very same way.”
One of her tiny hands gripped his wrist and she bit his finger. He took the opportunity to do something he’d desired since last night in the playroom, but hadn’t wanted to scare her. He bit her back with one canine on her clitoral hood, a specific purpose he would explain away soon enough. Above him, she screamed and quivered. “Pain and pleasure,” he murmured, kissing her inner thigh as he slid her down, onto his awaiting cock. “Tell me, baby, in or out.” She wrapped her curvy legs around his waist, but he wanted confirmation. “I need to know now, can you take me?”
“In,” Blythe groan
ed, gripping his shoulders. “In!”
But he was already there long before her second entreaty. Rock thrust so quickly that he knew he was flashing between his werewolf and his human-like corporeal form. Blythe gasped at his invasion. He was going so fast, that her face started to blur, her tits bouncing up and down until they thrashed against his chest – a mind numbing sight. She gripped him then with her channel, truly clenched him in a way he’d always heard about, whispered from one mated male to the other. Because last night, during her transformation into an immortal, her feminine core transformed to that of a female werewolf, one that could grip only her mated males in certain pleasure no other female could ever accomplish. And she was going to rip his dick clear off his body.
He didn’t know whether he should be afraid, which would be a first, or get down on his knees and praise God for allowing him such pleasure, but his instincts told him to demand she release herself. “Come,” he ordered in a warning growl. “Come for me!”
“I can’t!”
“You can.” He worked his Were compulsion on her as he swiveled his hips, heightening her impending orgasm. In retaliation, miniature nails scored his back as she tossed her head in protest. With her still clenching around his monstrous erection, he swiveled his hips again, circling wide, thinking she’d orgasm and let go. Blythe made a sound of clear objection and he increased his compulsion, forcing his mate to comply, to accept the pleasure she found so daunting and release her body. “Don’t be afraid of it, Blythe,” he whispered against her breast, licking the stiffened peak in circles echoing his swiveling sex, as he mashed his pelvis against her canine-pierced clit.
Still demanding her compliance, Rock never wavered on his compulsion. Unconsciously, Blythe amped up her clenching and fisted him mercilessly. He shot in her so hard that he feared for her, serious bursts that left him shaken. However, his little mate drew every drop of semen from his body, milking his cock, sending his well-pleasured body on a trip he thought might actually kill him. In the seemingly distance, he heard her crying out for him, her tiny frame trembling against his larger one. “It’s okay,” he croaked, flames dancing up his spine. “That was meant to happen, baby. Felt good, right?”
