Sage

by Talyn Scott

  “Boyband? Hardly. I’ve seen this particular actor on the television repeatedly,” Sixten replied curtly as he stretched out his arms. After a glance at Ryan’s inked sleeves, it took no more than a second before tattoos traveled down Sixten’s arms. “Blythe owns every single one of his movies.” His lips peeled from his fangs. “Wait till she gets a load of me, later tonight.”

  “Don’t put that thought in my head.”

  “So back to you then,” Sixten said to Nolan. “We’re going downstairs as would-be lovers.” He waved a hand over his body. “Now, I don’t know your sexual preferences, and I don’t care. But I also understand that I’m irresistible. So I can easily forgive you for any misguided lust that crops up, specially while I’m pretending to feed from you while downstairs — ”

  “I think I can hold myself back.”

  “So you say now. Just don’t grab any of my bits when fantasies of me rock you. Because I’m a happily mated male, and I’ll be forced to remove your arms, in the literal sense.”

  “I’ve met your wife,” Nolan snarled. “If I entertained any fantasies or intentions of committing adultery, Blythe would center them not you.”

  Ryan grabbed Sixten’s shoulder, as the male blasted forward with outstretched claws. “Six, it’s going to be morning soon.”

  “Fine.” Sixten shook off Ryan, then shot a menacing glance to the sky. “Let’s get inside before they do.”

  Twenty minutes later, the three descended blood-stained stairs leading to the dungeon beneath Ryan’s Goth club. Upstairs, Six Feet Under was hardly suitable for humans. But downstairs, they weren’t allowed.

  Nor did they know the dungeon existed.

  That’s why Oycher had phoned Ryan. The commanding Vojak needed to get Nolan, a mostly human, inside the dungeon to aid in their investigation. And though Ryan had run his establishment far above acceptable standards for vampire society, he didn’t have his head buried that deep. Deals went down in his club, dangerous ones, and he wasn’t talking about the feeding orgies that went on in the upstairs bathrooms.

  So Sixten could listen in to chatter while breaking-in Nolan, who Ryan was sworn — or threatened by final death, whichever way you looked at it — to secrecy by a covert Joint Faction team co-led by Oycher and Dax Jordan, the Territorial Alpha. In return, Ryan not only eased his conscious by helping out, he also got compensated.

  It was a win-win.

  On most nights…

  But tonight seemed off. And Ryan didn’t know whether his feeling was on the mark, or if he was edgy because Nolan looked like he was going to lose his shit before anything started. Whatever was going through the poor guy’s head, Ryan couldn’t blame him.

  As a Donor, Nolan’s genetics made him the only viable food for the Dynasty Vampyrs. This meant he was a rarity, a fucking commodity for the black market. Because to those vampires who weren’t of the Dynasty, Donor blood was a drug more addictive than anything a human could manufacture. And considering a vampire couldn’t otherwise get high or drunk, the idea of escapism from centuries of boredom or loneliness was often too appealing to pass up. So whenever Donors weren’t living inside the monarchy, protected by the very walls that also imprisoned them, they were up for grabs by the wicked.

  Ryan lifted his chin for the hostess. She trotted over, swinging hips he’d held onto a few times or so while moving behind her. Dressed in only leather boots and a whip, which was her choice of work attire not his, Clara purred, “Nice to see you, Ryan.”

  “Likewise. Friends of mine.” He inclined his head toward Sixten and Nolan. “I don’t want any trouble.”

  “Of course.” She gave a nearly indecipherable signal to security, the hulking male nodded back with a flash of fang. “Anything else I can do for you?” Clara brushed calculated fingertips over a pouting nipple. “Prepare one of your private rooms, perhaps?”

  “No, but I’ll enjoy some dinner before I head back up,” he said, quickly surveying his open mini-arena filled with a hundred or so feeding and fucking vampires. All with their eyes trained on the stage. Ryan’s senses, though, were trained behind him. And by the mutual stiffening of Nolan and Sixten, they also sensed a Lovec in their midst. “Looks like a decent show’s going on.”

  The tip of her fangs peeked when Clara smiled. “Right this way, gentlemen.” Instead of waiting for Clara to place him after she’d seen to Ryan and his guests, the Lovec eased in the arena behind them. His wings were down, but he wasn’t glamoured. Probably he didn’t have that capability in his bloodline. But then again, there were as many Gryph and Lovci groupies in his club as there were Vojak groupies. So, outside of fighting, Lovec still efficiently used wings to their advantage.

  “I can’t do it,” Nolan whispered, though any immortal could pick up on it.

  Sixten cupped Nolan’s face and nuzzled his throat, pretending to prepare Nolan for his feeding. “Don’t worry, honey.” Six dropped his fangs, barely grazing a line down the Donor’s throat. “No other male will bury his fangs in you.” Translation: I will kill anyone who bites you, chill the fuck out.

  Nolan blinked a few times, his heart rate escalating to an alarming rate. “I’m, uh, not in the mood. Let’s go home.”

  “No,” Sixten argued, still nuzzling Nolan’s throat. “You’ve been mad at me all week, and I don’t blame you. You deserve more than a quick grind over my desk, or that helpless shit where I keep you tied and gagged on my table, making you watch while I fuck Ryan.”

  Ryan whipped his head around, locking furious eyes with Sixten. But Clara suddenly got in his way, deciding to get all possessive as though she were spurred on by Sixten’s lies. “I would feed you.”

  She looked so wrong here, in the middle of all the blood and sex, that he wanted to scoop her up and… “Don’t be so pleasing to me,” Ryan said softly, taking a moment to shut everyone out but Clara. She deserved more than a vampire who had nothing to offer a female, other than his body.

  Tears glazed her eyes. “Why?”

  “It won’t help you keep your job.”

  “I’ll quit right now,” she argued, “if that’s what you think this is.”

  Ryan finally said what Clara didn’t want to hear, “It won’t keep me inside you on a permanent basis.”

  She opened her mouth on a shocked gasp, then settled just as quickly. “If you think I wouldn’t step back, once you found your Bride, you’re wrong.”

  “Clara.”

  She jutted her chin, right as a tear fell. “I know how our world works.”

  “I can see from your tears that I’ve already hurt you.” Ryan kept going, determined to protect her. “You can’t pretend you’ll step back once I find my Bride, because you can’t step back after I’ve taken you only a few times.”

  Her hand met his face. A whip couldn’t have stung him more. All sounds were sucked out of the room, the vampires no longer looking at the stage but at the club owner fighting with a scorned female slash employee.

  Slowly, Ryan lifted his hand to face, swiping at the welts leftover from her tiny claws. “You shouldn’t have done that out here, in the open for everyone to see.”

  “Don’t bother yourself with firing me,” she said as more tears poured from her eyes. “Consider that my resignation.” She turned and stormed off, her peach of an ass shaking.

  His fangs dropped, his vampire wanting to feed. But there was nothing else, no hard-on, no need to show her his power and dominance… just nothing but pity for her.

  He shook his head. “All right, nothing to see here.” But as soon as the words were spoken, Ryan realized, in fact, that no eyes were on him. They were on Sixten, as he stormed up the stairs while fast on the heels of the bleeding Lovec.

  “What’s happening?” Ryan asked as he finally caught up with Sixten. The Vojak was now atop Six Feet Under’s roof, with half of his face bruised and bleeding. But he was on the phone. “That’s right, he’s heading over McGregor Blvd to the river. But there’s a flock on either side.” He added befo
re he ended the call, “Yeah, I gotta find him.”

  Ryan glanced down, checking out the alley way. “If you’re up here, then where’s Nolan?”

  “He took off.” Sixten shifted into his normal self, leaving his disguise. “Nolan freaked out when you were having a lover’s spat with Norma. He and Lovec weren’t ready to share I dungeon, I suppose.”

  “Clara.”

  “What?”

  “The woman I was fighting with.” Ryan sighed. “It doesn’t matter. So the Lovec scared off Nolan.”

  Sixten shook his head, his face a mask of contemplation. “Actually, Nolan was scared of the Lovec.”

  “That’s impossible.”

  “Sounds like it.” Sixten lifted his eyes to the sky, searching. “But in my experiences, I’ve never known anything to be impossible.”

  Chapter 22

  “Terje.” Oycher gripped his phone until Sage heard it crack. “Did you pick up Isladora from the… Yes, you can believe I’m asking you that. If you were the one out working tonight, while she was up in the miasma feeding some pompous asshole…” He sighed. “Yeah, I know. I’m an ass. Can’t help it where she’s concerned.” Behind the elevator bulkhead, Oycher was squatting next to Sage, seven rooftops over from Six Feet Under. “Just put Isladora on the phone a second.”

  Sage nudged Oycher. He wanted to know about Scarlett, needed for someone to tell him she was okay. Though he strangely trusted Volos would keep her the way he’d left her, it was Edik and his supporters who worried Sage the most. If they ever got his Scarlett alone… A shiver ran through him. But he shoved that possible horror from his mind.

  “Scarlets’s fine,” Oycher said to Sage, still in conversation with his Isla.

  Sage nodded, keeping his eyes on a particular rooftop infected with five Gryphs.

  “Do me a favor, Nevesta.” Oycher tensed as one took off toward the river. “Call the Donor Complex. Tell Haley that Sixten found Nolan. Right. They’re heading back to the island as we speak.” He sighed. “Yeah, it was too soon. But we flushed out Edik. Yeah, wish I was there, too. Love you.”

  After putting away his phone, Oycher meticulously repositioned a couple of his blades, taking his sweet time about it.

  “Say it.”

  Oycher then tucked his long hair in the back of his coat. “What?”

  “You’re fidgeting, which you never do.”

  He winced. “Fedor’s watching over Scarlett now, and he drank from her.”

  Sage stopped in mid-breath. He understood what’d had to be done and why. Volos always demanded blood payments. And if he hadn’t, Volo would have given Edik’s supporters another round of ammunition against Sage. “So if anything happens to Scarlett — ”

  “Fedor can now trace her by blood.”

  Sage dropped his head, breathing between his fangs. The thought of another drinking Scarlett’s blood drove a stake through his heart. Apart from misting her multiple times, he’d not truly fed from Scarlett. “Thanks for talking to Fedor. I know that wasn’t easy.”

  “We needed intel.”

  “What are you going to owe him?”

  Oycher snorted. “Maybe Fedor owes me.”

  Sage doubted that, but the Master Gryph would be stupid not to help investigate one of his own, after fighting years of hearsay. If for nothing more than to put dark rumors to rest. Unfortunately, Sage knew better, and nothing would be put to rest until Edik was no longer free to inflict his brand of torture on others.

  “They’re moving again.” Sage shot a text to Roman, who was stationed near the river bank where another group of Gryphs were playing hardball with the shifters.

  “Dax wouldn’t do anything stupid, would he?”

  “Roman will be fine.” Oycher’s gaze went to the sky. “Dax isn’t a Territorial Alpha for nothing.”

  “Doesn’t make me like him on most days.”

  “No, but you can still respect a male like that,” Oycher countered. “Can’t hurt to have him by your side during a crises, like this.”

  “Dax will try and scoop up Scarlett for Pack, if something ends up happening to Roman and me.”

  That would be his instinct, yes. Oycher hissed in the way of vampires. “I won’t let him. Concentrate, Sage. We’ve Gryphs and Lovci spread out in all corners, waiting for you to slip up. And we have a blood lusty monster who already made an appearance at Six Feet Under.”

  “I know,” Sage growled.

  “If he was hunting for himself tonight, to feed his habit of blood and pain. He wouldn't be able to stop just because our Donor and Sixten spooked him.”

  “Yeah,” Sage agreed, “Edik’s somewhere else feeding, or getting close to it.” But where?

  Oycher’s phone vibrated again. “Ryan, can’t talk right now we’ve… What? Slow down. What’s her name?” To Sage he said, “Ryan thinks the Lovec took his mistress, Clara.”

  Sage shook his head. “But she can’t be a Donor. The Lovci always play in the dungeon. Clara would’ve already been discovered.”

  “But Edik can’t find a Donor every night, at least while he’s away from his blood clubs.” He said a few words to Ryan and hung up. “Think sage.”

  “I know.” Frustration welled. “I should be able to get into Edik’s head by now.” But he was close by. Sage could feel it. And there was something needling him… The idea was completely absurd and yet what other chance was there?

  Oycher must have picked up on the thought. “Where?”

  “My sister’s old place.” Sage misted while in his squatting position, trying for the Gryphs not to follow. “Back on Captiva Island.”

  Oycher started punching out group texts in blurring speed, before misting right behind Sage They spread their molecules high over the Gulf of Mexico, spinning just above the sea breeze, and heading straight to Elissa’s house. A place Sage’s family kept, although none of them lived in it. They just couldn’t part with the little cottage Elissa called hers.

  He landed at the back deck facing the gulf. Oycher landed on the beachside, his commander’s chin was tilted at an angle that meant only one thing. They hadn’t been discreet enough, and the Gryphs had followed.

  But the sound of a whip caught Sage’s immediate attention, followed by a woman’s scream. He inhaled deeply pulling the scents of the house and surrounding area into his lungs.

  Instantly, his body stiffened everywhere, knowing exactly what he smelled. Edik was right around the corner, and he’d broken a female’s skin. From her scent, she was vampire. Clara?

  Sage signaled to Oycher as he ran to the street side of the house, his commander giving him a stern nod as he braced his feet shoulder width apart and prepared for incoming Gryphs.

  Though he was concerned for the female, relief grew in Sage’s chest. If Edik was caught in the act of blood lust, of physically harming this female by over drinking her, at least Roman and Sage could get a reprieve on their death sentence for exposing Edik’s true nature. Because even though Volos refused to listen about Edik’s blood clubs, he didn't tolerate anyone who hurt a female.

  When sage rounded the cottage’s corner, he spotted the female on all fours, her naked ass bare and pointed upward, while Edik caressed it with his be-clawed hand. In his opposite hand was a small whip that Sage had seen the hostess in Ryan’s dungeon carry around.

  She flipped her hair over her shoulder and glared at Sage. “Get out of here!”

  “Are you Clara?”

  “Yes, leave!”

  So she had one welt on her ass and the skin on her neck was pristine, without a mark of feeding. Sage’s heart sank just as his blood roared through his veins. This was a total bust. “How dare you defile my sister’s memory this way, coming to her house for this!”

  Without speaking, Edik seemed to blink a few times as though he didn’t know where he was. He stepped to the end of the porch, after walking by the rocking chair Elissa always used, and hissed in the way of incensed vampires.

  Stretching his wings wide, Edik gathere
d air by rearing back several paces and then springing forward. With the speed he’d built up, Sage couldn’t stay upright.

  Edik’s dagger came down hard, piercing Sage between his ribs. Then he twisted the hilt. A loud sound cracked, followed by a softer but equally painful crack.

  “Nothing like the sound of ribs breaking.” Edik angled the blade while laughing with open glee. The tip easily moved between the wider expanse, no longer hindered by Sage’s ribs, and pierced his lung. Then he yanked with the brutal force of a Lovec. For a few seconds, all Sage could do was suck in air, while he struggled to breathe.

  Then he rushed Edik.

  Bringing up one booted foot, he cracked Edik’s skull at full extension. Blood gushed into Edik’s eyes, and Sage wasted no time taking advantage of the distraction.

  Sage tumbled him, pivoted, and brought both of his long daggers from his boots. He flung them left and right, hitting Edik right in the arteries of his wings. The spray shot out in crimson fountains, darkening his glossy, black feathers.

  Already, Sage readied a second set of blades in his hands. He crisscrossed the honed ore, pressing them on either side of Edik’s shoulders.

  “One move, just a flick of my wrist,” Sage ground out, the need for blood to heal his ribs — the pain stabbing through his chest, was nearly overpowering while Edik bleed profusely. “And you’re a dead vampire.”

  Sage pressed his knee into Edik’s chest, pinning him to gain better leverage, as Oycher misted in with Roman and Dax at his side. “I want your confession, fucker, before these witnesses. And I want it now!”

  “I will confess to loving your sister,” he spat back. “My Elissa was everything to me. Can you imagine not having your female, being forced to live day after day with this wretched emptiness bleeding your heart? Until there’s not a drop of blood left to pump it?” His lip curled. “Yet she wanted nothing but her human.”

  “I had to put him down, you son of a bitch, like an animal. Because that’s all that was left of him, after you tortured him and allowed your sick associates to mess with his mind and body.”