I laughed, shaking my head. We were quite the trio. “Dean’s angry with me.”
“I wouldn’t say angry. He’s frustrated.” Patrick stroked a finger, gently, up and down the length of my thigh as he watched me with caution. “You take so much on yourself, you sometimes forget that we are just as responsible for our people as you are.”
“I know.” I turned right onto Seventh Street and slowed as some pedestrians crossed against the light.
“I’m not sure that you do.” Patrick squeezed my thigh, reassuringly. “We would do anything to keep these concerns from your shoulders but we both know you wouldn’t permit it. That ferocity is one of the reasons we both love you.”
I smiled at him. “A year ago, you wouldn’t have been able to admit that.”
“No, I wouldn’t have been able to admit many things. I did not want to share you to the detriment of all. I am, at my heart, a greedy man. But this family we’ve created is something more than I ever hoped for. I am . . . happy.” His tone was almost wistful and all his happiness warmed me from the inside out.
“That’s all I ever wanted, you know. All this other crazy, I don’t need it.”
“I am well aware of that, sweetheart, and so is Dean.” He drew his hand away from me and I felt the loss of his touch as if losing my own limb.
“But?”
“But.” He turned his gaze forward and I steered the SUV into the gated property. “We are what we are and no amount of wishing or hiding will ever change that. They will come for us in the end if we were to do nothing. They’ve left us no choice.”
“So, no peaceful cottage in the country for us?”
“I don’t believe that life was ever in our cards,” Patrick said, leaning back against the seat, his head resting against the leather.
“I suppose not,” I said and there was a very big part of me that wished the three of us could disappear and just live happily ever after. I knew now, that would never happen. Destiny or fate, whatever the hell you wanted to call it, had different plans for us. “Are you ready?” I dipped my head and peered out his window at the mansion. The guards that had patrolled the property on our first visit were gone. The wrap around balcony on the second floor that had had regular patrols was now bare. The place seemed empty, desolate.
“I’d much rather be at home and inside you but, as you say, we have responsibilities.” He turned and gave me the most devilish grin of anticipation I’d ever seen. That expression on his face did things to me in places that only he and Dean got to see and touch.
I cleared my throat and clutched the door handle. “Okay then.” I winked back at him and got out. As I came around the front of the Escalade, Patrick also got out and waited for me to come up even with him. “What? No welcoming party?”
“Perhaps the situation is more dire than we’d previously thought. We will need to draw as many of her colony into our own as soon as possible or lose them to the others. Especially her cadre. I don’t wish to fight Raine’s replacement.”
“So let’s go clear some shit up for these people.”
“Yes. Let’s.”
Chapter 33
Side by side, we strode up the slate stairs onto the ornate front porch with Corinthian columns and scalloped wrought-iron railings. Light flooded the floor-to-ceiling windows, hiding nothing from our view. The place was empty. I peered into the front foyer through the windows and couldn’t spot a soul. Patrick knocked on the door, a loud, thundering boom and the original lead-paned glass rattled in the casing. Nothing. Not a skitter. Not a pitter or a patter to be heard. The only sound from inside was an erratic wrenching noise that I couldn’t make out.
“What is that?”
Patrick shook his head, his brow furrowed in shared confusion. Turning the knob, the door opened without hindrance and we entered. Once we were inside, I recognized the wrenching sound as sobbing. Someone was crying. Taking a few steps into the foyer, I glanced through the open door to the front parlor. Savannah stood next to the fireplace, her hands covering her face.
“Hello?” I called out.
At the sound of my voice, Savannah’s head snapped up with a snarl curling her lips. Without warning or provocation, she rushed us.
I shoved Patrick out of the way and drew Gladi from the sheath down my back. I stepped to my right and sliced across her gut as she passed. The rich scent of fresh blood filled the air and she stumbled, falling to the floor. Behind her and staining the floor for the several feet she slid, was a trail of the Tiger Queen’s blood.
“Hey,” a deep, male voice called from the next room. “That’s our Queen!” He and two others stood in the archway of the pocket doors.
All three were huge, broad shouldered with a musculature that had been built over years of training and fighting. All of them had the same bright green eyes. Patrick backed up into the foyer, giving us more room to maneuver. I followed for better positioning.
As I stepped back over Savannah, she started to push herself up to her hands and knees. Her wound began to knit itself back together and she groaned at the pain of healing. That shit could hurt just as much as the actual wound. I would’ve felt sorry for her but she was a pain in my ass and I needed her to be less of one at the moment.
I punched down hard with my right hand across her face, the hand with which I clutched Gladi. After the second strike, Savannah’s head hit the floor hard and she didn’t try to get back up. Patrick grabbed her shirt and drug her across the parquet floor into the foyer with us. The three men followed, their shoulders forward, eyes narrowed on me as growls rippled from their throats.
A prickle of magic crept up the back of my neck and the familiar chill of ice swept over my skin. I glanced up at the top of the stairs where a man and a woman stood, watching from the landing.
The man was medium height with long dark hair pulled into a messy bun at the apex of his skull. God I hated the topknot bullshit man-bun. Not cool. The woman was short. I mean really short, like could barely see over the banister short. I drew the bowie knife from my thigh and prepared for the three tigers to attack with a weapon in each hand.
“Stop this now!” Patrick’s voice boomed throughout the house, filling each room with the enormity of his power. The tigers hesitated and the two vampires at the top of the stairs cringed beneath the weight of it.
“I don’t want to kill them to prove a point,” I ground out through gritted teeth. “But don’t mistake me, I will.”
“You killed our mistress and must be put down,” the first weretiger snarled.
“Really?” I said, twirling Gladi in my hand and glancing up at the two vampires. “This is how you wanna play it?”
“We must avenge her.” The weretiger to my right bellowed like he was William-fucking-Wallace.
“We did nothing of the kind,” Patrick scoffed.
Sliding the bowie knife back in the sheath at my thigh, I took a deep breath and let the Pack magic flow over me and into my left hand. My fingers burned for a moment as the silver claws of The Golden Anidae hardened and stretched out from my fingernails, extending several inches from my fingertips. The glint of the lights reflecting off my claws danced across the face of the first weretiger, blinding him for a brief moment.
The weretiger on the left peeked around the shoulder of the first one. “Um, that smells like silver. Is that silver? Does anyone else smell silver?”
“What of it?” I barked. My blood was pumping through my veins like a freight train and I was ready to shed some blood as adrenaline forced my eyes to the silver of my wolf. “Are we doing this or not?”
“Her claws are silver!” the tiger on the left sputtered. “She has claws!”
“Shit,” the weretiger on the right hissed.
“S-S-S-Sorry, lady,” the first tiger stammered, backing away. “We didn’t know.”
“What are you?”
“So, we’re not fighting?” I growled through clenched jaw.
“No way,” the guy up front snorted. “I don’t want all the packs on my ass for slaughtering their Queen.”
“Dream on, kitty cat. I’ve brought down bigger and badder than you.”
“Jimmy, let’s get out of here,” the tiger on the left begged, tugging on the lead tiger’s sleeve. “She’s The Golden Anidae. We don’t wanna mess with that.”
“What about Savannah?” the other tiger asked.
“Pick her up,” the tiger on the left said.
He did as he was told and knelt at Patrick’s feet. Clutching the ankles of his queen, he put some distance between he and Patrick. “I’d rather be punished than dead.”
“Good choice,” Patrick said, kicking Savannah’s arm off of his hand-made Italian leather shoes. “Now,” he added, turning his attention to the two vampires at the top of the stairs. “You can’t possibly believe you can hold this colony on your own. Neither of you has the power or is strong enough to accomplish it.”
“We will fight you until our last breath,” the small woman hissed.
Releasing the pack magic, I let the claws slide back into my fingers. Every time I used my claws, a creepy, slithering feeling turned my stomach, but that shit worked like gangbusters so I was all for the claws when necessary. I’d suffer through the queasy feeling for the cool effect any day. I glanced up at the woman. “Considering you don’t need to breathe, that’s a pretty empty threat.”
“All we’re asking . . .” Patrick said much more diplomatically as he eyed me with reproach. I knew what he was doing, trying to ease over my sarcasm. He clearly didn’t understand that sarcasm couldn’t be soothed. That was the point of sarcasm. “. . . is to talk to Sarah, Danielle, Nathaniel, and Celeste.”
“Danielle is dead,” the man said with evident sadness in his tone. Of course we already had that information but I knew Patrick and how he operated. Both he and Dean didn’t trust anyone unless they were blood-oathed to them and quite frankly, as our colony and pack grew, the number of people we truly trusted shrank to merely a few.
“Then that would make you . . .” I started.
“Nathaniel,” he interrupted. “And this is Sarah.”
“Nathaniel!” the woman hissed beside him.
He peered down at her and raised his hands up in question. “What Sarah? He’s right. We can’t hold this colony together. I never wanted to be Liege and neither did you.”
“Celeste could’ve held the colony,” she muttered, but Patrick and I heard her anyway.
“Where is Celeste?” Patrick asked, his gaze narrowing on the two vampires as he shoved his will through them.
She trembled and clasped on to the railing for support. Nathaniel cowered and fell to his knees.
Was this show of power a bit of overkill? Probably. But was it necessary to prove a point? Absolutely.
“We don’t know,” Nathaniel bit out through clenched teeth.
“No one has seen her for several nights,” Sarah whimpered just before she collapsed beside Nathaniel.
Patrick’s icy power receded as he slowly reined it back in, giving both Nathaniel and Sarah the space to collect themselves. I slipped Gladi back in her sheath down my back and rested my hands on my hips. My blood was still pumping from the almost fight with the weretigers and, to be honest, I had been hoping these two would put up more resistance. It was hard to come down from an adrenaline high without having the aches and pains of action to go with it. I felt . . . bereft.
Patrick, in his infinite wisdom and his in-depth knowledge of all things me, gave me a quick smile and brushed his fingers across my knuckles. It wasn’t as good as a hug but it was enough. In that one touch, he’d let me know he understood the feelings churning in my gut without plastering our feelings for one another across a billboard. It was enough.
Turning his attention back to the two vampires, he said, “Come. Let us discuss the future of this colony and your place in it.” Patrick turned and reentered the front parlor, not even glancing back to see if the two vampires followed him. He just assumed they would.
I, however, stood at the door and waited, keeping my gaze on them as Nathaniel and then Sarah descended the stairs. Nathaniel gave me a once over but kept moving, entering the parlor. Sarah hesitated for a moment, tilted her chin up, and met my glare. She was only about eyelevel with my boobs and there was a part of me that wanted to take a step back so I could look her in the eye.
“Savannah was distracted by the loss of her Mistress. She will come back to even the score,” Sarah hissed.
“Well, then when she wakes up,” I said in a flat, uninterested tone as I let all emotion fall from my gaze. I knew my expression was cold and empty as a familiar peace settled over me. “You tell her, the next time she attacks me . . . I’ll kill her. I’ve given her two chances. Two more than I give most.” I jerked my head to the side, indicating she should follow Nathaniel. I didn’t move as I waited for her to obey.
Sarah, with reluctance, made her way to the sofa next to Nathaniel. I followed, striding to the far wall next to the fireplace. From this vantage point, I could see both doors and the windows. Nothing was sneaking up on me or Patrick. I propped my foot on the wall and rested Gladi on my thigh as Patrick lounged gracefully into the wingback chair. Sarah perched on the edge of the sofa while Nathaniel sat across from Patrick in the matching wingback. The vampire clapped his hands loudly twice. Patrick glanced at me and I reared back at the gesture. The abruptness and sheer haughtiness of it made my skin crawl. Curling my lip in disgust, I met Patrick’s confused and furrowed brow.
From the hallway, a small voluptuous woman sauntered into the parlor. She made her way around the back of the sofa and to Nathaniel’s side. He slipped his arm around her waist and hugged her close to him. “Would you care for some refreshment?” he asked Patrick.
Patrick directed the full weight of his gaze on me and cocked an eyebrow in question. I shrugged. As much of a noncommittal answer as I could muster since he hadn’t fed from me this evening. We’d been too damned busy for that but I could also tell he needed to eat.
I knew, theoretically, he fed from others but I never watched. The idea of Patrick’s lips on someone else’s skin made my blood boil and I fought the urge to punch the attractive, voluptuous woman in the nose and mar her sweet, heart-shaped perfection. And apparently, my thoughts and feelings hadn’t been as silent as I’d hoped. A pleased grin lit up Patrick’s handsome face.
The woman sashayed from Nathaniel’s side toward Patrick. He raised his hand slightly to halt her before she got any closer. She stopped as if an automaton at his command which was weird and more than mildly disturbing. “I wouldn’t dream of imposing,” he said, and I knew there was a wariness in his mind. He didn’t know these vampires and certainly didn’t trust them enough to drink first.
“You would honor us,” Nathaniel replied eagerly.
Patrick glanced at me again and then to Nathaniel. “I would be honored but I insist that you take your sustenance first. I would not dream of depriving you in such turbulent times.”
The woman returned to Nathaniel and he took her wrist in his tight grip. As he pierced her flesh, the sweet, metallic scent of blood filled the air. Patrick’s hunger radiated through me, clenching my own stomach. It was a little unnerving.
Sarah followed, sinking her fangs into the other wrist, taking dainty little slurps. She drank only what was polite and then dabbed the corners of her mouth. As the woman turned toward Patrick, he stood. Towering over her, she shrank from his imposing height.
He took her hand in his and led her to the coffee table. Without a word, he helped her step up onto it. She was still a few inches shorter than he was but his access to her neck was easier.
The scent of his arousal filled my nostrils and the unadulterated lust that rippled off of him was palpable. He couldn’t care less about the woman in his arms as he cradled her against him. It wasn’t her that had his cock rock hard and straining. I knew that. Instead, the voyeurism of me watching him had his shaft bulging against the firm restraint of his black jeans. In that moment, I finally understood so much about our relationship and why it worked better now as a group than it had as two separate couples.
I took a deep breath and let him see in my gaze how much I wanted him. His lip drew back, revealing his long incisors and he plunged his fangs into her flesh. There was a part of my body that recognized his penetration in all forms and tingled. I grew warm and wet at the thought of him driving into me while drinking me down at the same time.
The warm sensation of the woman’s blood sliding down my throat caught me off guard. After a moment, I understood it was Patrick’s sensations I felt and not my own. Her blood coated his tongue and filled his belly. It was warm and smooth like a fine brandy. A prickle of magic crept beneath my skin as her life slipped from her and into him. I gasped in surprise as her heart slowed and her pulse stammered. Her heartbeat became erratic with each forceful draw he took on her neck. The woman slumped in his arms and holding her close, he withdrew from her. She would live but it would be a while before she fed another vampire.
Violet Abyss (A Blushing Death Novel Book 7) Page 20
