Blood Promise

by Mina Carter

  Need and desperation filled him as his long strides took him to the back wall. He needed to find her, needed to assure her that Astra’s words were just that, words… that he wasn’t married, that kissing her wasn’t some sick lover’s game with her as the butt of the joke.

  “Vixen? Come on, love, where did you go?”

  He stood at the end of the garden, scanning the darkness around him in case she had hidden in the shadows to evade him. But nothing pinged his preternatural senses. The shadows were as empty as the gardens he’d passed through. Shit. She wasn’t here. Where the hell had she gone?

  His gaze fell on the wall and his eyes widened a little. She hadn’t, had she? With a running leap, he scaled the wall easily, cursing his court finery, and balanced on the top as he looked at the street below.

  A few humans hurried along it, obviously heading home from late shifts at work or one of the clubs in the city, but none noticed him atop the wall thanks to the enchantments set to conceal the court from prying eyes. Walking along the top, he stopped just above a ward set into the wall.

  “Arakanos,” he murmured softly, sketching a symbol in the air to activate the ward and make it give up its secrets. It flared gold for a second and then the air in front of him shimmered, overlaying another scene on the one he saw, but the colors were muted. In the past, he realized. The ward was showing him what had happened recently.

  As he watched, a blonde head showed on the court side of the wall. He knew before she pulled herself with easy grace to the top it was Vixen. Unobserved as she thought she was, he could see the misery and pain on her face and written in her eyes. His jaw tightened as anger surged again. Once he’d found Vixen and reassured her, he and Astra would have a little chat. One he was sure the lying bitch wouldn’t like at all.

  His gaze caressed the image of Vixen as she paused on the top of the wall for a few seconds. Even in the dress that molded itself to her lovingly, she was a warrior born and bred. A shiver rolled down his back at the memory of that lithe, curvy body pressed against him and the softness of her lips as she’d surrendered to him. His cock jerked, a savage ache at his groin as the image of Vixen naked under him, her golden hair wrapped around his fist as he pounded into her, filled his mind.

  He groaned, forcing himself to concentrate as she dropped from the wall with an easy, almost lazy leap. He got a hint of the direction she’d taken before the spell snapped off, its recording limit reached. With a soft murmur of thanks, he brushed a hand over the ward, and dropped down into the street below to track his prey.

  As soon as his feet hit the pavement, Vixen’s scent was easy to pick up. It was faint, but it was the only one among the myriad of human scents scattered all over. Plus, his sense of smell wasn’t foiled by the night blooming flowers in the court’s garden. Planted to give courting couples a little privacy, they didn’t help when trying to track down one woman.

  His woman.

  He growled in surprise at the thought, confirmation as he accepted the truth. Vixen would be his. He’d finally seen through a chink in her armor to the woman beneath. A woman he wanted to see a lot more of. A hell of a lot more, both in and out of bed.

  “Hey, man, cool threads!” A human saluted him from the other side of the road. The slightly erratic path he took as he walked and the scent of alcohol rising from him announced that he was well and truly drunk.

  “Thanks. Costume party. You know how it is,” Kalen called back. “Say, did you see a blonde come this way in a pink dress?”

  The drunk thought about it for a moment and then waved vaguely back in the direction he’d come from. “Yeah, somewhere back there, near Jimmy’s,” he said, naming a popular club. “She your girl? Pretty. You’re lucky, man.”

  Kalen flashed him a grin of thanks and headed the way he’d indicated, picking up more of Vixen’s scent as he went.

  She wasn’t his girl yet, but she would be.

  Soon.

  Chapter 4

  The front door to her apartment closed behind her with a resounding thud. Dropping her shoes in the living room, Vixen walked through to the bathroom, stripping the dress off as she went. It ended up in a heap in the corner of the room and she snapped the shower on, stepping under the spray before it had warmed up. She didn’t care, shivering as she stood under the water. She wanted Kalen’s scent off her. Now. Sooner.

  Lying bastard. The tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes before she could stop them. She didn’t try, telling herself it was the water as it got hot. Nothing to do with Kalen and her stupid fantasies. He was exactly the asshole she’d thought he was, nothing more, nothing less. The kiss had been a dare, some sick game between him and his wife… the wife she’d had no idea he had in all the years they worked together.

  But that wasn’t unusual… the kyn were long-lived, and he was a noble. She’d heard strange stories about them. Married couples sleeping in different rooms. Hell, sometimes they even lived in different places depending on the social season. She couldn’t imagine that, having a mate and living apart from him. Theirs couldn’t be a true bond… maybe.

  Shaking her head, she stuck it under the shower and closed her eyes as the water cascaded down her body. What the hell did she know about love and bonded mates, anyway? Not like males were beating her door down to make her offers, were they? Not the she-beast.

  When her skin pruned and she smelled more like freesias than herself, she snapped the shower off and stepped out. A pit stop in her bedroom to pull on shorts and a sweater later, she headed through to the kitchen to raid the freezer.

  “Hello, gorgeous,” she muttered, bending over to retrieve the tub of ice cream from where it was hidden at the bottom of the freezer. Although she was kyn and mostly drank blood for sustenance, she liked human foods. And she didn’t just like ice cream, she craved it with a passion.

  Pulling the tub free, she shut the drawer and hip-bumped the door closed, reaching for the cutlery drawer in the same movement. It was the work of a second to wrench the lid off and only one more to dig the spoon into the chocolatey, gooey goodness. She shoved a big mound in her mouth and groaned in pleasure as the taste exploded on her tongue.

  “VIXEN! OPEN THIS DOOR NOW! IF YOU’VE GOT A MAN IN THERE SO HELP ME, I’LL FUCKING KILL HIM!”

  The hammering on her door was punctuated by the furious male shouts. Spoon still in her mouth, Vixen turned, her eyes wide. With the corridor door open, she could see right down it to the front door.

  Kalen. He’d found her. How? She’d had no idea he knew where she lived. Crap. He had to have followed her.

  “VIXEN! OPEN THIS DAMN DOOR!”

  Kalen shouted again, his deep tones unmistakable as was the fury in his voice. Instantly, hers mounted, flaring out through her body like a grenade going off. Slamming the tub down on the counter, she stormed toward the door, remembering to snatch the spoon from her mouth before she yanked it open.

  Kalen filled the doorway, looming over her with his fist raised to hammer on the door again. Fury twisted his features but didn’t scare her. Instead, it merely fed the rage that rolled through her.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, her voice more a snarl than anything, stabbing the spoon at him with each hissed word. “Are you trying to get me thrown out? This place has rules you know? Now fuck off before I kick your ass to the court and back.”

  He blinked, surprise flowing over his handsome features for a moment as he looked her up and down. Then the anger returned, and his gaze shot past her.

  “Where is he?” he growled, stepping forward to loom over her. It might have been intimidating had she not been who she was and pissed off.

  She shot a hand out, slamming it into the center of his chest to stop him from getting into her apartment. Sure, she’d had fantasies of him there, with her, in her bed, but that didn’t mean he got to storm into her home without an invite.

  “Where is who? What the hell are you on about?”

  He flicked a glanc
e down at her, and for a moment she felt like she could see right down to his soul—need, frustration and anger looking back at her.

  “You were moaning,” he bit out. “Where is he? I’m going to tear his fucking head off.”

  She blinked as his words made sense.

  “You think I brought a man back here? After kissing you? Wow,” she laughed harshly. “You really don’t think a lot of me, do you?”

  He growled, flashing his fangs at her in an uncharacteristic show of anger. His hand shot out to fist in the damp hair at her neck, and he hauled her up against his hard, lean body. She landed with an oomph, her free hand spread out across his broad chest to keep her balance.

  “Don’t fuck with me, Vix. Not on this.”

  “I’m not!”

  She shoved him back in anger, putting all her strength behind it. He held on, wrapping a hard arm around her waist to hold her against him. She was pissed he assumed she’d picked up another guy, but wasn’t that what he’d done with her? It’d serve him right if she’d found someone else…

  “No matter, I’ll make you forget him,” he muttered. Something in his gaze shifted, warning her he was about to drop his head, and she shoved again, furious beyond measure he thought she’d let him kiss her.

  This time she twisted to bring her knee up sharply, aiming for his groin but knowing he was too good a warrior to let her land that hit. Instead, she lashed out at the last second, using her elbow to clip him under the jaw and send him reeling back. As a blow, it was merely a warning. Had she wanted to hurt him, she could have easily. As a warning, it stopped him in his tracks, his eyes widening.

  “Like you’ve forgotten your wife, Kalen? You remember her? She was the one watching us…” She cut that sentence off, her voice cold as she looked him up and down.

  “Fuck off before I lose my temper. Don’t come here again.”

  And then she shut the door in his face.

  “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!”

  Kalen’s heart fell at Vixen’s complaint as soon as she clocked the roster written on the board in the warriors’ compound. On the wall near the sparring area, it listed who was patrolling with whom and what areas. Normally, Kalen patrolled with Marak, and Vixen with Feral but since the big guy was off on his honeymoon, he’d left Kalen in charge of the roster. It had been the work of a moment to switch Feral out to one of the newer warriors and put Vixen with him.

  “Sorry, blondie. You know the rules. Show up late and you’re stuck with what you get,” he growled, slamming his blades home in the double sheaths across his back. What he said was only half right. He’d sent the rest out early so she’d have no options.

  “Late? Fuck that. No one ever goes out on time.” She whirled around, fire in her eyes and a hint of fang at her lip.

  “Well, they do now. Grab your kit and let’s go. Time’s a-wasting.”

  He bit back his growl as she stalked toward him, wanting nothing more than to haul her into his arms, pin her against the lockers behind him and carry on what they’d started on the terrace a week ago. He’d thought the week’s leave she’d taken would have eased the fire in his blood, but if anything, it had intensified to near fever pitch.

  His sleep had been scattered, his day’s rest interrupted by erotic dreams of the blonde warrioress in his arms. Under him, over him, in front of him as he drove his cock deep time after time. Up against a wall as he took her hard and fast. Slow and gentle as she moaned his name in pleasure.

  And he’d fucked things up with her. Kissing her had been one thing, but turning up at her home and all but threatening her, threatening the guy he thought she’d taken home… mentally he kicked himself. Yeah, she’d never let him near her now.

  He knew she didn’t have another male. She wasn’t Astra, screwing everything that moved behind his back. She was Vixen, a woman of honor and her word. Plus, he’d spent the week watching her place when he was off duty. He’d told himself it was because she was a female living on her own, but that was bullshit. She could take care of herself. She’d dealt easily with him, for example… no, it was less about protection and more about her. Finding out more about her. All his spying hadn’t netted him much more information though.

  She lived alone, and no male had entered or left her apartment while he’d been watching, nor had he scented one anywhere near. She ate, slept and watched TV alone. She read in bed… his body tightened at the memory of the tiny little vest and shorts she wore to sleep in. Simple and cotton, they weren’t designed for seduction… but they were the sexiest things he’d ever seen. She did yoga. He’d watched, rapt, from his perch on the building opposite as she’d moved gracefully. Something about her drew him in…

  He snorted to himself. Yeah, he wanted to fuck her. Badly. That was what drew him in. Pure carnal lust, that was all.

  But he still couldn’t shake the protective instinct that kept raising its head—an unwelcome instinct. He didn’t want to protect Vixen, and she didn’t want him to. She’d made that more than clear. His jaw had ached for days where she’d clipped him.

  She moved behind him, her locker door slamming, and he walked to the roster desk, making a show of doing paperwork while he waited for her to be ready. A few minutes later she appeared at his side, her beautiful face shuttered and more blades over her body than he could count.

  He dropped the forms he’d been holding, not that he’d been able to say what the hell he’d been looking at, and looked up at her, one eyebrow raised.

  “Finally ready? Or do you need to put your makeup on?” The usual taunt slipped out before he could stop it, but a sense of relief filled him as she flipped him the bird as normal.

  “Screw you. Let’s go kill us some rogues.”

  He smiled as he slid out from behind the desk, watching her shapely ass as she stormed out the door.

  “Believe me, babe. There’s nothing I’d like more,” he said softly and followed her. Perhaps a night elbow deep in rogue blood would take the edge off the tensions almost tearing him apart.

  Kalen was just as infuriating as he’d been before, but at least he hadn’t mentioned their kiss.

  Halfway through their patrol, Vixen unwound enough to allow herself a small sigh of relief. He’d not only not mentioned the kiss, nor the scene at her apartment after it, but he seemed to have reverted to the asshole warrior she was used to.

  Her grip tightened on her blades and she twirled them over the back of her hands as she stalked through a small park. In the middle of a residential area, the edges were well lit but the center with its trees was dark and filled with shadow. Just the place rogue vampires liked to hang out and chow down on their prey.

  The slight breeze lifted her hair, the long bangs and several strands already loose from the braid at the back of her head, and brought the scent of blood and death. She inhaled and grimaced slightly. Yeah, there were rogues nearby. And they’d fed by the smell.

  For a moment, she paused. She and Kalen had split off to track different scents but weren’t so far apart that a yell wouldn’t get him to her side within a minute.

  She flicked a glance back, then toward the copse where her prey waited. She could do this, prove she wasn’t just some sop to “political correctness” … prove that she was more than capable of taking down rogue on her own. She didn’t need Kalen. He’d probably make some crack about her being the little woman needing a man’s protection.

  Her lips curled back in a silent growl. Fuck that. She didn’t need any man’s help, especially not Kalen’s. Him and his wife, and their kinky games… nothing the fuck to do with her.

  Gripping her blades tighter, she eased forward into the darkness, all her senses extended to the maximum. Rogue vampires were sneaky, fast as hell and hard to kill. Thankfully, they rarely ran in packs, more apt to tear each other apart than work together. It was the one blessing that made her job easier.

  Walking carefully, she rolled her feet each time she placed them down, avoiding rustling any leaves or cracking
twigs as she approached. The stench of blood got stronger as she worked her way deeper into the trees, and she knew she was too late to save the rogue’s victim. Rogue vampires were messy eaters who liked to tear into their victims as they drank, sometimes even eating flesh as they went. She shuddered with distaste at the thought. Sure, she liked blood, she was a vampire after all… but flesh, just the thought made her gag.

  Soft snarls helped her pinpoint her prey in the darkness and she moved forward slowly until it came into view. It was a young male, clothes tattered and dirty as it hunched over its meal—the remains of a young woman, dressed in what looked like a bank uniform, her eyes wide and unseeing in death.

  Poor thing. The pain and terror on the dead woman’s face plucked at Vixen’s heartstrings, and she sent a silent prayer up that whatever afterlife the woman believed in, she was there now and happy.

  Feral snarls echoed through the small copse as Vixen flitted closer. The thrill of battle filled her veins as she broke from cover, sneaking up behind the creature and raising her blades. Every cell in her body pulled taut the moment she stood above him, her arms spread, stretching out into an eternity. At any moment she expected him to turn and spot her, lash out with the vicious claws at the end of his fingers.

  He didn’t. Her blades fell with a meaty chunk, separating his head from his body. Black blood sprayed her chest and face. The head dropped to the dirt and rolled away, the surprised expression almost making her laugh.

  “Told you she would fall for it.” The raspy voice to her left brought her head up with a snap.

  Shit. She stepped back, blades up in a guard position as the surrounding shadows moved. They consolidated into figures as three more rogues slithered out of the darkness, their blood-red eyes latched onto her greedily.