by R. E. Butler
More than once he had wanted to storm into her home and carry her away, lock her up in his chamber until she was completely his. Safe and protected. Of course he hadn’t done that. He’d shared with Mishka that he believed she was his mate, and Mishka had insisted that Brone tread carefully.
“This alliance with the Wiccans is far too important for you to go thinking with your dick,” Mishka had said, managing to look regal even though he was saying words like “dick” and pissing Brone off.
“I’m not thinking with my dick.”
Mishka made a face. “You can’t bring her under the fang unless she is your mate. Your fangs leave open wounds that don’t heal quickly, and it will be hell enough as it is with a powerful Wiccan running around the club without adding in fresh blood.”
“I’m not planning to bring her under the fang,” Brone pointed out. Vampires could choose one person to become their personal food, a practice called bringing someone “under the fang.” Brone had not had personal food before, outside of the occasional feeding from Elizabeth. He chose to drink from random humans willing to feed him and when SyBl — synthetic blood — became available, he only had to feed from fresh blood once a week and sustained himself with SyBl the rest of the time.
“Then how do you propose wooing her? You do plan to do that, yes? Not simply club her over the head and drag her back to your chamber?”
“I don’t know yet, but I won’t treat her like a food source. If she chooses to let me drink from her, then it will be a decision she reaches on her own. I feel connected to her Mishka. She’s mine.”
Mishka sighed loudly. “Fine. But if she complains about you being inappropriate at all, there will be hell to pay.”
Brone actually didn’t know how to go about winning Arissa’s heart. He’d never had to woo a woman. In all his thousand years, he’d never mated or been in a serious relationship for any length of time. For the better portion of his life, he had traveled too often to put down roots, but he’d been in Cleveland for many years now, and finding Arissa was a very good reason to settle down.
He paced in Mishka’s office as the rest of the family waited for Cella to bring Arissa in to meet them. Temple, Ven, Traz, Rage, and his twin Vex, sat or stood around Mishka’s office, while Mishka sat behind his desk.
Rage said, “Why are you all twitchy?”
Brone stopped pacing and snarled. “I’m not twitchy.”
“Yeah, you are,” Vex said. “Your eyes are flashing, and you look like you could rip someone’s head off.”
“I volunteer Temple if you need a personal punching bag,” Traz said from where he lounged in a cushioned chair.
“Oh ha ha,” Temple said and scowled.
Mishka said, “Enough.”
Everyone quieted and the sound of heels clicking on tile sounded down the hallway. Brone stared at the door, aware that his mate was walking toward him and about to enter a room full of unmated males. He was about to snarl a stern warning to them when someone knocked twice and the door swung open.
He saw Cella, but he didn’t care about her. He cared about Arissa who stood just behind her, wearing a far-too-short skirt and a skin-baring top that perfectly matched her green eyes.
He wanted to fall to the floor and worship her like a goddess. He wanted to rip her clothes off and find out how many times he could make her scream his name in pleasure. And he wanted to tear out the eyes of every male in the room who looked at her with far too much interest.
Brone’s eyes locked with hers and everything within him focused on her. He heard her heart rate spike. Her pretty green eyes darkened, and her lips parted as she exhaled softly.
Then Mishka stepped between them and Brone nearly tore his leader’s head off. But he managed to regain his senses quickly, especially when Arissa leaned sideways and smiled at Brone.
Mishka introduced Arissa to the family. Arissa glanced at each male briefly, but her eyes always strayed back to Brone’s as if she couldn’t handle not looking at him for even a few moments. He felt that way as well.
Mishka said, “Cella, you may escort Arissa to the hall where we’ll meet with the rest of the coven. We’ll be opening late enough as it is. Let’s not delay any further.”
“It’s nice to meet you all,” Arissa said to the room, but she didn’t stray from holding Brone’s gaze. He felt his body tighten with pleasure. She clearly felt the same connection to him that he felt to her. Whether she knew what it meant, he didn’t know, but he’d find out soon enough.
The door shut as Cella pulled Arissa out of the office and Brone headed for the door, intent on keeping Arissa within view so he could keep her safe. There were thirty-seven coven members who lived at Fang, not including the family. Most of them were unmated males, and Brone didn’t want Arissa to be harmed.
Mishka said, “Temple will go with Cella to keep Arissa safe until we arrive. I need to speak to you, Brone.”
Traz reached the office door first and opened it, saying, “Anyone else think it’s not a good idea to make goo-goo eyes at the new girl when Brone’s around?”
Temple smacked him on the back of the head. “I wouldn’t even joke about it.”
The others left and Brone looked at Mishka who said, “Clearly you two are connected. She completely ignored me and the others.” He looked thoughtful. “I’ve never met a female that could ignore my persuasion outside of the one that we won’t mention.”
Brone’s vision hazed red. “You tried to seduce her?”
“No, of course not,” Mishka waved absently. “I was trying to hold her attention so I put persuasion into my voice, and I might as well have been mute for all that it affected her. Still, I am the leader of this coven and you are accountable to me. Since I know you will pursue her because she is your mate — and that much is clear to me — promise me that you will keep your wooing to after-work hours.” Mishka arched a brow. “You do plan to mate her, yes? I’ve heard the beloved bond is hard to ignore.”
“Of course.”
“Which involves biting. Do you know if your beloved bond will help her to heal your bite marks?”
“I don’t know.”
When beloveds mated, they shared blood during sex. It was extremely intimate, sharing not only blood but their memories. She would see everything he had ever done, and he would see what her life had been like. If she were human, she would be changed into a vampire. As a natural Wiccan, she would become immortal but not vampire, still retaining her Wiccan powers. She would live as long as he lived, their immortality forever linked. Whether she would be able to heal the wounds of his double fangs, though, he couldn’t say. During feeding, his tongue emitted an essence that numbed the area and slowed the healing.
“Right,” Mishka said, bringing Brone’s attention back to the matter at hand. “She just started work today. I can’t have you put a slow-healing wound in her neck when she has to come to work tomorrow.”
“I don’t know that we would complete our bond tonight.” He hadn’t even spoken to her yet. He couldn’t say for sure what the night would bring.
“I’m asking you to wait until Sunday. It will give you time to romance her. Modern women appreciate that sort of thing.”
Fantastic.
“I will wait.”
As they left to go to the hall where the coven was going to meet Arissa for the first time, Brone thought, Just because she is attracted to me doesn’t mean that she understands what it means. Which meant that he would still need to take the time to get to know her before they mated. In the meantime, though, he would make it clear to the rest of the coven that she was off limits.
* * * * *
After the meeting with the coven, which went well in his estimation, Cella took Arissa on a tour of the club and Brone had planned to accompany them, but Mishka wanted him to take a team and check out suspicious activities conducted by the First Church of Humanity. It had taken several hours, but Brone had eventually discovered that the church had installed hidden cameras in
the buildings across and alongside the club and were filming the people who were coming and going. The cameras were destroyed after one of the vampires on the team, who was a tech genius, had been certain that the church was receiving the video feeds from the cameras. Brone tasked the team with checking their own security camera feeds and installing updated cameras in areas that had not been covered before.
He stood on the second floor of the club and looked down at the crowd. They writhed together like a pulsing, twitching mass that had itches in places they couldn’t scratch on their own.
He closed his eyes and inhaled slowly. Vampires had heightened senses like many were-animals, and he could zero in on a scent and follow it for miles. All vampires could track by scent, but it was a skill that had to be honed through years of practice. Brone had plenty of time to hone that particular skill.
He found Arissa’s scent easily. She smelled like warm vanilla. He watched her walk along the edge of the dance floor with Cella and Rage. Mishka had given her the job of working the reception desk for the offices. Brone had chosen the guards for the outer doors himself. Bellamin and Dylan were highly trained warriors several centuries old. Although neither was mated nor part of the family, they were coven members and Brone was confident in their ability to keep her safe when he was not available.
The club was open from sunset to an hour before sunrise. The club’s visitors included humans who came to party and coven members who didn’t live within Fang or another of Mishka’s clubs and came to feed. There were a surprising number of humans who came to the club hoping to attract a vampire as a mate. Humans had all sorts of reasons for wanting to be changed. Brone hadn’t been given a choice, but he had no regrets about his immortality.
Arissa, Cella, and Rage disappeared into the coven’s private area, and Brone turned away from the dance floor and headed to the stairs. Following her scent, he found her on the loading dock with two trolls. Arissa held a large glass jar in one hand and watched with Cella and Rage as the two trolls used hammers to smash glasses. Brone stepped behind her.
She shivered. “I wondered when I was going to meet you for real.” She turned slowly. “And here you are.”
“And you’re breaking coven property for what reason?”
She smiled and it made him want to make her smile all the time.
“It’s called a witch bottle,” she said, lifting the jar. “It’s for protection. I would break the glass myself, but I don’t want to risk cutting myself. Since my blood is oh-so-delicious.”
Cella chuckled.
“I’m Brone,” he said.
“I know. I’m Arissa. But you know that, too, don’t you?”
He nodded. “We should talk.”
“Yes, we should. But not right now. Protection first.”
She turned and walked to the trolls, setting the jar on the ground in front of the pile of broken glass. She directed them to fill the jar with the shards of glass and as they did so, she tossed in what looked like rusty nails and leaves that smelled like rosemary.
“Cella?” she asked, and Cella handed her a plastic jug. The scent of vinegar filled the air as Arissa poured it into the jar filled with glass and nails. After handing the vinegar back to Cella, Arissa screwed a lid onto the jar, and one of the trolls picked it up.
“We’re going outside. Do you want to come?” she asked.
“Why are you going outside?”
“There’s a loose stone that I discovered when I came here today, and we’re going to pry it up and bury the jar. It will keep evil out of the club.”
He didn’t mean to snort his disbelief, but he couldn’t help it. “A jar of glass is going to keep evil away?”
She didn’t seem offended. “You’ll see.”
He followed the small group from the loading dock around to the front of the club. One of the trolls carried a satchel of what appeared to be tools, and when they stopped at the front door of the club, Arissa bent down and ran her hand along some stones in the wall. She pointed to one, and a troll with a crowbar easily pulled the stone from its resting place. Arissa whispered under her breath and put the jar inside the hole.
One troll slapped wet cement around the opening, and the other troll shoved the stone back into place. Arissa stared at the stone for a long moment, and then with a satisfied smile, she turned and walked toward the back of the club. Brone stayed right with her, and as they returned to the loading dock, she said, “As long as that jar is there, the club will be protected. It’s an ancient ritual. I can tell you don’t believe that it will work, but if anyone tries to come into the club with evil intentions for any who are protected within the walls, they won’t be able to cross through.”
“So it’s like a salt line?” Cella asked from behind them.
“One that can’t be easily erased,” Arissa said.
The trolls went to work cleaning up after Arissa thanked them for their help and Brone said, “I’d like to walk you back to the offices.”
“Okay.”
He didn’t know what to say to start off the conversation. He felt oddly impotent with his words. He’d never been one to talk much about anything.
The guards opened the doors for them, and Arissa stopped in front of the desk. Cella said she would return for her shortly and disappeared with Rage through the door that led to the offices. Arissa looked up at Brone. “Why didn’t you talk to me that first night?”
“Mishka forbade it.”
She snorted in disbelief. “Couldn’t you snap him in half?”
He felt a smile curve at the corner of his mouth. “If I wanted to leave the coven, yes. It was difficult for me to leave you that night, but I had no choice. I vowed myself to Mishka’s service. He is my master.”
She hummed in her throat, gazing up at him. He found himself once more at a loss for words. Slowly she rose onto her tiptoes, her body brushing against his, and he lowered his mouth to meet hers. Electricity jolted through him as their mouths parted and their tongues touched, and he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. She made a soft sound in her throat, a hum of pleasure, and he deepened the kiss. The taste of her was like sweet honeyed wine, and he wanted to taste her again and again. She clutched his shoulders and twisted the fabric of his shirt in her hands as the kiss went on, their tongues stroking and tasting. She curled her tongue around one of his double fangs and he groaned. She smiled against his lips and pulled away from the drugging kiss.
“What am I?” she asked with a breathy whisper.
“My mate,” he answered simply. They were possibly the two truest words he had ever spoken.
Her hands clenched tighter in his shirt and she said, “I don’t know what to do now.”
Cella cleared her throat nearby, and Brone lifted his upper lip in a snarl as she said, “For starters, I need to talk to you about your job duties.”
Arissa blushed but didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned her cheek against his shirt and sighed deeply. “You’ll find me after work so we can finish?”
He growled softly and inhaled her sweet scent. “We’ll never be finished, beloved.”
Reluctantly, he released his hold on her. Giving Cella a good glare for interrupting them, he was surprised when she stuck her tongue out. “As if you’d kill me with your new mate standing right here.”
“I can always kill you later.”
Cella rolled her eyes dramatically. “Promises, promises.”
“No one is killing anyone,” Arissa said and then winked at him before turning her attention to Cella.
Brone walked out of the reception area, looking forward to the end of the work day so they could pick up where they left off.
Chapter 7
Cella turned to Arissa with a grin when Brone left. Arissa’s heart still pounded and she could still taste him — a heady, sweet, and dark flavor — on her tongue. A part of her wanted to run down the hallway to him and continue the kiss, but the other part of her — the non-tingling one — knew that she was supposed
to be working and therefore needed to act like a professional.
“How old are you?” Cella asked, sitting on the edge of the large wooden desk.
“I’m nineteen plus one, so technically I’m thirty-one.” Wiccans had what was referred to as “long life,” which meant that they aged one body year for every twelve years that passed following age eighteen. “You?”
“I was turned at age twenty-three, three hundred years ago by Mishka.”
“You’ve been in his coven the whole time?”
She nodded. Cella was beautiful. Blonde haired, blue-eyed, and curvy. She looked as though she could have been a model. And judging from the time that they had spent together that evening, Arissa knew they would be good friends.
Arissa had known that her main job would be as the receptionist for the coven during their working hours, which were from sunset to an hour before sunrise. The offices, and the club, were open seven days a week.
Cella showed her how to work the phone system, schedule appointments, and order supplies. Arissa practiced transferring a few calls and then hung up the phone, smiling.
“What’s so funny?” Cella asked.
“I’m a vampire secretary. Or, I guess, a secretary to vampires. Sounds like the title for a romance novel.”
Cella grinned, her fangs flashing. “I supposed it does. As you get used to things, Mishka will increase your responsibilities with the coven, but the most important thing you can do is help to keep everyone safe.”
“I haven’t met any of the mates yet.”
“Vampires are very protective of their mates, especially after the attacks. The mates usually work with their vampires and keep out of the more public areas of the club. No non-mates are allowed in the chambers except for someone brought ‘under the fang’.”
“‘Under the fang’ is when you choose someone to feed from exclusively?”
“Right. It’s usually, but not always, a pre-cursor to a mating.”
