by Naima Simone
Mine, his beast roared.
And he fell.
* * * * *
Tingles continued to race up her legs and inner thighs and clench in her sex. It was a sweet ache Sinéad held onto and, if she closed her eyes, she could still feel his cock driving into her, stretching and filling her. Branding her.
She fumbled over a button on her vest then paused. She glanced up and studied Bastien as he slipped a white shirt over his broad shoulders and fastened the buttons with quick, nimble fingers. He tucked the tails into the band of his black slacks and her breath caught in her throat at the elegant, sexy image he presented. His white-blond hair tumbled to his shoulders and around his face in thick waves and Sinéad had to curl her nails into the black leather in order not to reach for him.
A weight settled in her chest. The heavy pressure pushed against her rib cage, filled her lungs and throat. She wasn’t a fool—she realized their chances of emerging from this night unscathed or alive were slim to nil. One hippogryph and a cruxim-now-human against an entire sânge trib? Even if she still possessed her former strength and power, the odds would have been tragically skewed.
This intimate moment—the two of them together with the scents of sex still clinging to their skin—might be the last they shared. The sadness invading her, vibrating in her like a wild, silent scream, almost brought Sinéad to her knees. Her soul cried out against losing him when she’d just found a love she’d not only hadn’t expected, but hadn’t known existed. But the cruxim also cried out. Not in anguish, but in a fierce roar echoing with pride and joy. If she died tonight, it would be in battle with her warrior-champion by her side.
“Ready?” Bastien asked.
She finished buttoning the vest and smoothed her palms down the short leather skirt at her hips. “Ready.”
He crossed the room in three long strides, clasped her face between his hands and tilted her head back. His thumbs whisked over her cheekbones, her lips. When he touched his forehead to hers, their breath mingled and she tasted the scent of his kiss with every exhale he made.
Slowly, he pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was simple, sweet, almost innocent. And in it she sensed reverence. For her. Sinéad’s heart pounded. No one had ever honored her, cherished her.
If she hadn’t loved him already, she would have fallen right then.
Bastien lifted his head, held her gaze for a long, but not nearly long enough, instant before stepping back and taking her hand in his.
“Let’s go.”
She nodded and followed his lead toward the glass door and the balcony beyond. He would fly them the twenty minutes to the Cardei castel. And Lady willing, he’d bring them back.
The night breeze brushed over her face and trailed through Bastien’s strands like a lover’s caress. The winds circled and whirled around the balcony, the gusts more aggressive than they’d been the night before as if they protested the suicide mission she and Bastien were headed into. She shook her head, a small self-deprecating smile quirking a corner of her mouth. Omens, signs, foreshadowings. She was getting fanciful in her old age.
“Get on my— Shit! You’re kidding me.”
He ground to a halt. Her shoulder slammed into his but he didn’t seem to notice. Head tipped back, he gaped at the dark sky. Squinting, she tried to see what held his rapt attention, but all she beheld were the diamond-bright stars barely concealed by a light cloud and the dazzling Boston skyline.
“Bastien.” She poked him in the side. “What is it?”
His shock-slackened features morphed into a broad grin, joy and disbelief lighting his face like a torch.
“You can’t see them?” He shot a glance at her before his eyes returned to the sky. “No, of course not. Wait a second.” His fingers squeezed hers. “Keep looking.”
Moments later, the space above them wavered as if a heat wave had passed over the sky. Then…Sweet Nef…
Hippogryphs.
Four of the largest hippogryphs she’d ever seen. Even bigger than Bastien and that was saying something.
She must have sent the thought across their link because he chuckled. “They’re warriors, sweetheart. The Dimios and his krinos.”
The executioner of the hippogryph race and his elite fighting unit.
Hot. Fucking. Damn.
The beasts drew closer and, one by one, changed in hot licks of magic. In seconds, the bulks of four tall males crowded the balcony. With Bastien behind her and the intimidating males in front, Sinéad was surrounded.
The wall of flesh silently stared down at her.
“Sinéad, I’d like to introduce you to Nicolai Abioud.” The giant with the same golden hair as his hippogryph and piercing lavender eyes nodded. “Lukas Gallo.” The male next to Nicolai repeated the first male’s nod. His arctic eyes glowed next to his swarthy skin and midnight hair. “Adon Laskaris.” A smile curved the mouth of the man with the gold eyes and tricolored hair. The red, brown and blond strands were vivid even in the darkness. “And Dorian Zarides.” With a spurt of humor, Sinéad thought Dorian, with his silver hair and eyes, could’ve been a male version of a cruxim. “Nico, Luke, Adon, Dor, this is Sinéad.”
Nicolai moved first. He pressed a fist to his chest, directly over his heart, and bowed low at the waist. In unison, the other three males followed suit. Stunned, Sinéad shot Bastien a shocked glance then swung her attention back to the majestic, powerful hippogryphs paying tribute to her both as a female and a fellow warrior.
“Thank you, Sinéad, for saving our brother’s life. We’re in your debt,” Nicolai said, his deep voice solemn. He and his unit straightened, their collective gazes remaining on her.
“Nico.” Bastien held out his hand. The blond giant grasped his palm and pulled him into a tight hug. Lukas, Adon and Dorian clapped Bastien on his shoulders and back. Sinéad winced in sympathy at the affectionate gestures. Damn, those slaps would have felled any other man like a tree.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” Bastien said as his friends took positions at Sinéad’s side. He grinned. “I didn’t expect you…”
Lukas arched a black eyebrow. “Did you really believe we would let you go into battle alone?”
Dorian snorted. “We’d never be able to live it down if our healer faced a castel full of vampires and we sat on the sidelines with our thumbs up our asses. Not a chance.”
“Of course not,” Bastien deadpanned. “What was I thinking?”
“And Tamar has a message for you,” Nicolai added. “Kick vampire ass.”
Adon snickered. “She also said if Buckbeak comes back with one scratch, she’s holding you personally accountable.”
Bastien laughed as Nicolai shot Adon a dark glare. Tamar’s pet name for the former Dimios was a source of never-ending amusement for the four of them.
“Besides,” Nicolai interjected, his purple eyes focused on Sinéad once more, “your female saved one of ours. We can do no less but offer assistance in saving hers.”
Sinéad blinked. The vow sunk deep, penetrating her heart and spirit to spread warmth in a place she hadn’t been aware was cold and barren.
As a cruxim, she’d fought alone. On the rare occasions when the vampire threat had called for a more united front, Guardians would be called in from other territories to fight but afterward would immediately return to their regions. For the most part, the Black Angels battled alone and were expected to hold their own. Sinéad had never experienced cause for assistance. She’d never had a partner. And now as she prepared to face the biggest war of her existence, she had both.
“Thank you,” she murmured and didn’t try to conceal the emotion roughening her voice. “I—thank you.”
Nicolai dipped his chin in acknowledgment and Bastien gripped her hip and squeezed.
“I think this might be the first time I’ve seen you speechless,” he teased. And in front of the men he called brothers, Bastien placed a tender kiss on her lips.
There was a loud, exaggerated sniff and a growled “shut
up” from the hippogryphs’ direction.
Laughter bubbled inside her and swirled down the link she shared with Bastien. He smiled down at her.
“Okay,” Bastien said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and tucking her into the shelter of his body. “Since you’re the military experts a.k.a. killing machines, I assume you have a plan?”
For the first time, Nicolai grinned. And damn if it wasn’t pretty and terrifying at the same time.
“I’m so glad you asked…”
Chapter Twelve
“There it is.”
Sinéad peered through the blanket of clouds she, Bastien and the hippogryphs soared through. Even from where they hovered in the sky over the dense tree-covered landscape, she had no problem locating the area Bastien pointed out to her—the flaming jewel of the Cardei castel was highly visible.
Set just outside Boston in a tiny neighborhood called Weston, the towering mansion resembling a castle was mounted on a small hill and completely surrounded on all sides by towering trees. From their viewpoint, Sinéad glimpsed a slender road winding through the large property.
Not all sânge tribs could afford holdings such as the one below. Some vampires’ castels were simple single-family homes dedicated to their regina, while others were vast estates where entire clans resided, similar to feudal manors. Apparently, the Cardei vampires were counted among the wealthy. But how much of their wealth had been accumulated through lucrative business decisions and how much of the fortune was dipped in blood?
“Plenty of cover,” Sinéad sent down her link with Bastien. “Either they’re confident about their strength and ability to protect themselves or…they’re very confident about their strength and ability to protect themselves.” She snorted. “It’s foolish. Anyone or anything could easily hide in this forest.”
“Not everyone thinks in terms of hunting, sieges and carnage like you do, sweetheart.”
“They should.”
Bastien chuckled, banked to the left and began his descent.
Behind them, Nicolai, Lukas, Adon and Dorian waited, veiled by their gyges. Once Bastien and Sinéad approached the tall iron gate enclosing the property, the hippogryphs would fly in under the cover of magic and night and conceal themselves in the woods.
Anticipation streamed in her veins as the air whistled past her ears and the earth rushed up to meet them. The eagerness she was familiar with—she’d been raised and fostered on the hunt. But underneath lurked a sensation that shivered and twisted like leaves on a brittle wind. Anxiety. Fear. She’d tasted it before from others, but the emotion had never been hers, especially not on the eve of battle.
Before, only her life had been on the line. Now, if they weren’t victorious, she’d lose Bastien and a love—a love that had given her life purpose.
As soon as they set down on the ground outside the gate, she slid off Bastien’s neck. He changed into his human form, simultaneously clothing himself in his white shirt and black slacks. He wrapped his strong, slender fingers around hers as they waited for someone to notice their arrival.
They didn’t wait long.
Several feet inside the property, stood a booth with a steepled tower, mimicking the various turrets and spires soaring over the mansion. A dark figure stepped from the booth and stalked toward them on silent feet. Its graceful, silent glide across the paved grounds telegraphed who—or what—it was. Vampire.
She inhaled a deep breath.
And let it begin.
As the immortal approached, an urgent need rose in her chest and nearly strangled her. It beat at her like the frantic wings of a bird, pleading, desperate…
“Bastien.” His name expelled from her lungs on a blast of air.
He lowered his head, glancing down at her with an arch of his blond eyebrow. The gesture had become so dear and familiar to her in the last days, fear tore through her, leaving her heart pounding. I want to see him lift his eyebrow again. Sweet Lady, please let me be able to see it again.
“Before we go in and meet whatever awaits us, I want you to know,” she swallowed then poured every bit of love, desire and adoration dwelling in her heart and soul into her voice. “I love you.”
That simple. She had no flowery speeches, no declarations to rival poets. For her, those three words said it all. Because she’d never uttered them to another person before—human or immortal. She’d never known the power of love before he appeared in her life. For Sinéad, love equaled Bastien—they were one in the same.
His eyes flared. Emerald fire leapt in them. For a moment, the hippogryph stared down at her and, without a word, Sinéad knew if they came out of this alive, both man and beast would claim her.
She smiled.
“Can I help you?”
Bastien turned to greet the tall figure on the other side of the gate. Moonlight passed over the vampire, highlighting his blond hair and creating mysterious pools in his onyx gaze.
“Bastien Sarris. Your regina is expecting me.” The male flicked a look at Sinéad and a low rumble echoed in Bastien’s chest, reverberated in his reply. “She’s with me.”
A corner of the vampire’s mouth quirked as if he suppressed a smile. After several seconds of silence, he nodded and returned to the booth. The gate opened on well-oiled hinges, allowing only enough space for them to pass through before the iron portal clanged shut again.
“Welcome, Mr. Sarris.” The vampire smiled and Sinéad caught the flash of a fang. “And friend.” He nodded at Sinéad, amusement evident in his black eyes. “My mistress awaits you at the house.”
With a murmured thank-you, Bastien strode up the paved driveway, Sinéad dutifully behind him.
“This shy, submissive human act is becoming tiresome,” she groused.
“Only a little while longer.” Bastien’s laughter washed down their link like a warm summer rain. “Although I have to admit, I’m rather fond of it.”
As they passed an immense fountain that dominated the center of the courtyard, Sinéad squeezed his hand in a punishing grip. “Forget it, hippogryph.”
“Damn,” Bastien teased. “I already had the little schoolgirl’s outfit picked out, complete with knee socks and cute, patent leather Mary Janes.”
Sinéad snorted. “If that’s what you want to wear, go right ahead. I hope they have a pair in your size.”
His bark of laughter echoed in her head and she fought her own grin as they climbed the front steps of the palatial home that doubled as the castel of the Cardei sânge trib. Her humor-laced bravado slowly ebbed, replaced by a pre-battle awareness. A holding this size had to house more than the regina—more like the regina and a small army of immortals. And as the doors parted and light poured onto the landing, Sinéad’s assumption proved correct.
Silence pervaded the sparkling white foyer and the diamond-bright glow from the crystal chandelier bounced off dozens of formally dressed vampires.
The beautiful and deadly creatures stood as still as statues in doorways opening off the vestibule and the spiraling stairway leading to another story. Others loitered with glasses in their hands, having paused mid-conversation to study the new arrivals.
And though none moved, Sinéad’s skin tingled from the eyes sliding over her. She strengthened her shields as numerous nudges poked and bounced against the steel door she formed around her mind. Gritting her teeth against the invasion, she struggled to maintain the ignorant, simple mien of an innocent human who had no clue she’d just stepped into a cage full of predators.
Strength surged into her head, solidified behind the mental barrier she erected. Bastien. Relief flooded her, as did the love she sent across their link.
“Bastien. Sinéad. Welcome.” Faolan appeared in the foyer, his voice ringing in the thick quiet fairly vibrating with curiosity and hunger. She didn’t dare lower her shields and use her gift, but she didn’t need to in order to sense the many pairs of eyes narrowed on her as if she were a walking buffet. Well, to them, she was.
“Faolan,” Ba
stien greeted the auburn-haired vampire, his tone casual and relaxed. Nothing about his demeanor betrayed the tension coiling the muscles beneath his shirt or tightening his grip around Sinéad’s fingers. “Thank you for the invitation.”
Faolan waved away his appreciation with an elegant flicker of his hand.
“When I informed our regina of your request for an audience, she was very intrigued and had to meet you.” He turned toward the staircase. “Please follow me.”
With so many of his kin surrounding him, the vampire had no fear of giving her and Bastien his back. She didn’t fault him. Only a fool would underestimate the perfectly coiffed creatures as useless. They were killers. Predators that used beauty to lure their prey. Their killer instinct didn’t make them evil, but it damn sure made them dangerous as hell.
She caught the almost inaudible snuffle of nostrils flaring, taking in her scent as she passed. Her skin prickled and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end like erect little soldiers. Her palms itched with longing to unsheath the gladius hidden beneath the long, leather duster she wore over her vest and hilarious excuse for a skirt.
“Easy,” Bastien cautioned. “How many do you count?”
“At least thirty on the bottom floor and fifteen more on the staircase.”
While the vampires had been inspecting them like sides of beef, she’d been studying the layout, ticking off the bodies so Bastien could relay the information to Nicolai and the others. Faolan escorted them down a long corridor. Pale yellow paper inlaid with whirls and curlicues of gold covered the walls, while a deep-canary carpet softened their footfalls. The hallway was empty, but when Faolan paused before the only set of doors at the end and pushed them open…
“There’s nearly fifty in this room alone, Bastien.” She couldn’t conceal the trepidation in her mental voice. Couldn’t pretend worry hadn’t taken up residence beneath her heart and lodged there like a giant stone.
His big palm slid over her lower back and settled on her hip, gently easing her into the shadow of his large frame. Though her worry remained, his touch settled her. Reassured her.
