Sage

by Talyn Scott

  This cadence seemed too familiar, she realized as she unerringly zeroed in on Motka’s gaze. But she pushed back at the lulling sensation. “I’m not tired.”

  He stared down at her, his eyes growing larger, taking up her vision. “Yes, you are.” He stepped closer, gripping her shoulders with his big hands. “You are exhausted, Scarlett.”

  She pushed away from him. “I’m not.”

  He took her by the waist, yanking her to him. “You will awaken tomorrow morning, quite refreshed, forgetting about Sage.”

  Pushing back yet again from the overwhelming compulsion to obey his every word, Scarlett balled up her fist. “I’m not forgetting anything!” She slammed him with the fiercest uppercut she knew. He shook his head, unfazed, so Scarlett took her other fist and blasted his nuts.

  Well, that got his attention.

  “Aw!” Motka dropped to one knee. “You don’t hit anything like a human.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” She hurried past the door, taking one last look at the pretty, pretty man who had animal parts. In the corridor, her steps faltered for the briefest moment as her gaze lingered over Sage’s plush mouth, where those fangs pierced his lower lip. Her eyes moved up a fraction, taking in the fan of his long lashes as they cast shadows on his bladed cheekbones. And those eyes, had she ever come across the glory of those babies? Never, no one else could have anything close to his green.

  But they glowed!

  She caught sight of Motka in her peripheral vision, and turned her head fully to face him. They shared a look she couldn’t decipher. But by the sudden tensing of his body, Scarlett thought he might come after her again. So she lifted her fist, a clear reminder of her ball-crushing skills. “Don’t mess with a woman who once dated an underground prize fighter. It’ll only get uglier for you.”

  “I wasn’t hurting you.” He raised an elegant eyebrow at her sneer. “And even by your own admission, neither was Sage.” Clenching his jaw, he knelt and placed Sage’s head on a pillow.

  Scarlett winced when it rolled to the side, his bruised temple hitting the unforgiving floor before Motka caught it.

  Both hands now fisted at her sides, Scarlett couldn’t believe the urge hitting her. She wanted to tell Sage she was sorry, to run her fingers through his thick blonde hair and experience the utter silk of it. What would it feel skimming her breasts? Or lower, between her thighs… Even she heard the quickening of her breaths, the immediate pounding of her heart.

  Placing a blanket over Sage, Motka looked up at her from beneath his brow. His head canted oddly, like that of a lion or a jungle cat. “I don’t think you’re afraid anymore. Are you, Scarlett?”

  “I could decide, if you would really tell me what he is.” She shook out her sore fist and braced her hands on each side of the doorframe.

  He stood but didn’t take a step forward. “You didn’t pull the trigger, did you?”

  “No, I only slammed him with the stun gun,” she countered. “What kind of monster do you think I am? You said it yourself that he was delirious.”

  “Come here.”

  “Your hypnotizing didn’t work,” she said wearily, “so give it a rest.”

  “Something’s outside.” Walking a few feet, he closed the drapes, then peered out of them where twilight was fading into night.

  “We’re in the penthouse, so unless a helicopter’s flying at us, I think we’re all right.” She placed her foot inside the door, still overwhelmingly drawn by the animal-man named Sage.

  Motka waved a dismissive hand and the lights shut off by themselves. “They’re hunting us.”

  Her gaze flitted to Sage’s fangs, then back to Motka. “Who’s hunting us?”

  Giving her a stern look over his shoulder, he brought his finger to his lips as the sound of rotors filled her ears. Or more like wings. “Go find the study and lock yourself in,” he whispered. “There’s a latch in the floor behind the smallest bookshelf. Use it. Then cover your steps.”

  Stealing Roman’s words, she whispered back, “But I’m just a paralegal.”

  “Who hits like a fighter,” he reminded while shooing her with his hand. “Go before it’s too late.”

  “People only say that in movies.” Just for good measure, though, Scarlett stepped back.

  “Then pretend this is one of your movies,” he demanded fiercely, going a little wild around the eyes, “and you’re about to fall into the clutches of four-hundred pound bats.”

  “Big bats?”

  “And guess what?” he added just as the flapping slowed right outside the balcony. “They don’t eat insects or lick the blood from cattle. Not these bats, they prefer humans.”

  Sage’s head lifted up, his glowing eyes latching onto her. “Run, My Nevesta, the Lovci are here.” His eyes rolled in the back of his head, then it thumped on the floor like a melon.

  “Lovci?”

  A sound like metal rubbing metal pierced her eardrums.

  The glass! she realized. Someone was cutting the glass right outside of the window. After taking one last lingering look at Sage, she bolted down the hallway.

  Sage managed to get on two feet when the Lovec crashed through Roman’s window. Incoming wind scattering the shards everywhere, so Sage lifted his forearm to shield his eyes.

  “What is the meaning of this, Edik?” Motka demanded in his prideful, Dynasty Vampyr way, his voice whipping beneath the wind. “Destroying Roman’s home is punishable by our laws. ”

  But Edik wasn’t listening to Motka, his eyes fixed on Sage. “Ghost from the past.”

  “That should’ve stayed in the past.” Sage had absolutely no weapons on him. His only hope was that Scarlett recalled every step Motka had given her. Because if she made it to the study, she would be safer. “Why is your associate waiting outside?” He motioned though the destroyed window, to the Lovec that had hit Sage with his Stavz. “Getting your back?”

  “There’s no back to get,” Edik said, angling his wings as another cold blast of wind shot through the bedroom. “Those Vojaks your commander ordered to Russia, in order to watch your back, are tied up in red tape.”

  Oycher would have sent them on the down-low, without waiting for paperwork or approval from the Coven Master of Russia. The red tape Edik spoke of was blood, his way of telling Sage they were dead by his hands. “You would kill a rarity our race needs, I don’t doubt it.”

  “You stepped over the lines, delving into my business dealings.” His eyes turned completely black, his citrine irises slitting like those of a cat. Sage would never forget Edik’s eyes — the yellow stars in the skies of his nightmares. “What did you expect?”

  “I don’t know what to expect from you anymore.” The wind flung Sage’s hair in his eyes and he shoved it back. “But you know our race needs Vojaks as much as it needs Donors to survive, and you’re killing both.”

  “You have no proof I’m taking Donors, or you would have already hauled me in, Vojak.” Edik’s anger heated the freezing room, growing the more he spoke. “But you and yours are the lawbreakers. In fact, one of your werewolf associates took a female owned by me, one I was turning into the Dynasty Empire.”

  “Owned by you? After my sister died,” Sage spoke harshly, “you mated another female. And I know for a fact that she still lives inside Volos’ court.”

  “What I do with any female is none of your concern. Just as what you and Roman do as mercenaries are none of my concern. But you’ve crossed the line, coming here, trying to expose us. Fortunately for you, there’s still a chance for us to part amicably. That is, if your werewolf returns what’s mine.”

  Sage had no idea what was going on with Flynn, hadn’t talked to Oycher either. But then again, Oycher probably was scrambling with trying to locate the two missing Vojaks. “Was this the female who crashed in the Mercedes?”

  “Yes, you and yours hurt her.”

  Any female within biting distance of Edik would’ve been hurt anyway, far beyond a car crash. “And you marked he
r, with your bite?”

  “She’s clearly marked.” His upper lip peeled away from his fangs. “If she’s not returned within twenty-four hours, you and Roman go down. And if you think your other associates, anyone who was ever attached to your Robin-Hood-like endeavors won’t also fall, then you don’t understand how thorough a Dynasty investigation can be.”

  Motka was shaking his head. “We can report you, too. Have you persecuted in the same way.”

  “But, Counsel, you have no proof I was attached to any of the clubs you took down.” Edik pressed papers against Motka’s chest. “Yet I have plenty showing you as mercenaries.”

  From his vantage point, Sage could see a black and white of Roman and him from their latest Istanbul mission. On that night, they’d burned a club to the ground, accidentally killing one female who’d run back inside the burning building.

  Even though that night they’d taken down two hundred clearly evil vampires, who would never again brutalize another creature, that female’s death would never leave any of their minds or their warrior hearts.

  “Wasn’t it enough that we lost Elissa together?” Sage tried to talk reason, hoping Scarlett would have just enough time to lock herself inside the study. “Do we have to do this, after all these years?”

  “You tell me? You keep taking my females.” Edik’s head cocked in that hunter way, sensing similar to werewolves. “Well, what do you know? I think there’s a female, Vun,” he said to the bastard that had shot up Sage. “I think collateral is called for here.”

  Sage lunged for Edik at the same time Motka caught Vun by the wing. But Vun managed to knock Motka backwards, his burly body whizzing through the corridor that led to the study.

  Scarlett’s feet skidded on the corner, and she nearly ass-planted. After righting herself, her elbow hit the end of a high table and knocked the damn thing over, shattering crystal trinkets everywhere. It was like setting off a fire alarm! The resounding echoes of crystal bouncing from the tile floor to the vaulted ceilings.

  “Here, female,” an unfamiliar man called her with a click of his tongue, as though she were a cat. What an ass!

  She slid past the glass, as she made it to the study door. Upon closing it, she spotted a growing shadow on the opposite side of the corridor.

  Wings!

  Motka wasn’t kidding!

  With trembling hands, she locked the study door. To her amazement, a milky blue symbol lifted from the lock, growing as large as those frightening wings, and covered the entire door while pulsating like a heartbeat.

  Magic?

  Deep breaths, she told herself; just keep taking deep breaths until you save yourself. Then, answers will come. Though she probably wouldn’t like them.

  His fist slammed against the door when Scarlett darted away, but she refused to look over her shoulder and feed her fear. Her heartbeat was skittering as it was. Instead, she hunted for that small bookshelf among… “This place isn’t a study, but a library.”

  When another blast of his fist came against the door, she took a running left, noticing there were no windows in this cavernous room. After yet another turn, she spotted a straight desk without drawers or a chair. To its side was a small bookcase. A louder boom sounded, followed by the splintering of wood.

  Scarlett jumped, then felt something growing inside of her, something that had come and gone all of her life. But when it bothered her this way, it usually hit with a blast of rushing adrenalin. So when she bent her legs and shot up high, she shot up really high, and landed beyond the desk with a roll of her back.

  She pushed the bookshelf aside, its weight surprisingly light. “Hollowed out books,” she figured.

  To cover her tracks, as Motka put it, she switched the bookshelf to the other side of the desk, where it appeared completely undisturbed. Then she grabbed ahold of a small rolled up rug that had a curious fishing line attached to it.

  Quickly, she found a small, circular latch in the floor. Scarlett plucked it with her fingernail, then got ahold of the loop with her fingertips and yanked. A square section of the floor gave way to reveal metal rungs secured to a stone wall. She went in feet first, moving down at least six rungs before sliding the piece of floor halfway. Then she threw out the rolled rug, while holding onto the fishing line. Inch by quick inch she brought the two together, until the rug covered the resealed floor.

  This left her in total darkness.

  Her breaths were the only sounds reaching her ears, until.

  Footsteps sounded from right above. She stiffened on the metal ladder, forcing her breathing to slow but nothing she did worked.

  “Come here, female,” he called so sweetly, so serenely, that Scarlett wanted to bolt back up the steps and do as he said. “I will not hurt you.”

  Fighting with all of her might, she took another step down, instead, then another. The descent becoming easier as she lowered her body, it wasn’t until she got halfway down that her foot slipped, and she somehow ended up dangling by one hand.

  She scrambled to get her other hand on the rung right as the hatch flew wide and hands like steel bands grabbed her wrists. Scarlett struggled in his hold, fighting for her freedom, only to find herself completely hanging in the air somewhere beneath the subfloor and at the creature’s mercy.

  “Now, settle down and be a good little birdie.”

  “Fuck you!”

  “No need to flirt,” he said in that smoldering cadence she found hard to resist, “I’m all yours.”

  Scarlett knew she shouldn’t look up.

  So she kept facing down, wondering how to outsmart a gigantic man with bat wings that easily stretched the length of a room. His strength was impossible, his breathing not even heavy as he hung from his waist and held her entire weight.

  He started pulling up Scarlett, lifting her higher, higher, and higher. No matter how hard she kicked out, she couldn’t manage to catch a rung with her bare toes for her skin kept sliding on the damp metal.

  When he eased her torso through the floor hatch, she forced herself to look at him. If you discounted the wings of ebony feathers, he looked like your classic rockstar: all tatted up and ready to go, even sporting a lip ring. But when Scarlett moved her gaze to take in the color of his eyes, her heart stuttered.

  “What?” he said with a deliberate blink. Leaping, black flames grew in his coal black irises, and in the center of those hellish eyes, were slashes of neon yellow pupils. Some might say his eyes appeared cattish, but Scarlett would say that, coupled with his wings, he was a demon in corporeal form.

  She flicked her eyes down to his hands and back, trying to keep her lip from wobbling with fear when she demanded, “I’ve had enough of the Neanderthal routine today. Hands off.”

  “You don’t want to be mine?” he studied her neck for a moment. “Looks like you’re up for grabs, little bird.” He gripped her tighter to emphasize his words.

  During those frozen seconds, not once did Scarlett think she could take him on physically. But if she had another opportunity to run before he got her airborne, she might find her way out of this nightmare. “How could anything on my neck tell you whether I’m up for grabs, as you call it?”

  “I’m about to show you.” He opened his mouth, snapped his jaws, and extended similar fangs as Sage. The horror of watching them slide from his gums, made it all seem too real. In the next second, his mouth was on her throat in that familiar way Roman used. And the lightbulb clicked on, of what he was, of what he was doing to her! A desperate scream bubbled from her throat, but it didn’t make its way across her tongue.

  When his fangs started to pierce her flesh, blood shot out of his mouth, coating the front of her bathrobe. He went limp, loosening his grip. So Scarlett shoved at his hands, and he toppled to the side.

  Out of nowhere, Sage picked her up as he literally glided on his feet. And to her utter shock, he finished what that winged freak started.

  And bit her throat.

  Chapter 12

  As Sage inh
aled, he drew in the succulent scent from the female nature declared his Bride. And wanted nothing else in that moment but to drink from her. Instead, he roamed his glowing eyes across the cobweb-ridden rafters above him, then down to the potter’s wheel and various work stations covered in dust and more cobwebs. “This place hasn’t been used for a while.”

  Since the moment he’d misted Scarlett inside the seen-better-days art studio, she’d skittered to the far end like a cornered animal, staring at him from afar as she moved from area to area, lurking in the shadows.

  As a natural predator, she had no idea how her actions spurred him on. Right now, in fact, Sage was queuing in on her heartbeat.

  Thump.

  Thump.

  Thump.

  “I’m sorry you got wrapped up in this mess,” Sage apologized, “but for now, please relax. We’re good here.”

  Since Edik took off the moment Vun headed for Scarlett. Sage’s only recourse was that he healed enough to mist for a short distance, very short. He’d almost lost an arm getting to her in the study. Then the trip from the study to here had almost ass-planted Sage. He had no idea what part of town they were in, but it couldn’t be far from Roman’s penthouse, considering Sage’s need for blood.

  From misting her, Scarlett’s taste was still in his mouth, her blood an aphrodisiac even to him now. Thankfully, though, she was no Donor. So the Lovec was only trying to take Scarlett for himself, as the so called collateral Edik demanded. He had no idea what Edik and Vun would do next, if they were really turning in Sage and Roman at risk of exposing themselves. But he knew Flynn would never give up a female werewolf as payment to immortal crime lords. Sage wouldn’t either. So the ball was in Edik’s court. Was he bluffing, or not? Right now, though, Sage refused to waste another second worrying over Edik, since he was finally alone with his Bride.

  “Scarlett?”

  She made a sound in the back of her throat, one part gasp, two parts desperation. “Yeah?”

  Her voice washed over him, soothing the fire beneath his skin. He fought back his answering fangs, willing them to recede so not to scare her. But he wanted to take Scarlett beneath him to explore her body slowly, meticulosity, and make it his own. Right after he marked her.