T. A. Grey Read online

  “I’ll be there soon,” Brayden said then hung up.

  Dmetri stood with a wince and half-walked, half-dragged his leg to stand against the restaurant. His thoughts immediately went to Christine. He licked his lips and could still taste her there. He groaned as his cock hardened like a damn rock. Luscious and sweet, she was the sexiest thing he’d ever tasted. He still couldn’t understand why he didn’t just take her body. He’d wanted to, nearly had many times but something held him back. But he hadn’t been able to keep from tasting her sex. She was smooth and soft down there and though he’d barely put his finger inside her before she started coming, he felt how tightly she gripped his finger.

  He’d have her. And soon, before his balls shriveled up. His mind went back to that kiss in the restaurant. He’d never been more surprised by a woman than when she’d boldly climbed into his lap and kissed him . He always initiated contact, he controlled the play, but not with her. She was unexpected, a puzzle, and he liked it.

  Sometime later a black SUV pulled into the lot and pulled up beside him. The passenger window rolled down and Brayden gave him a hard look from inside.

  “Get in.”

  Dmetri carefully pulled himself into the seat and slammed the door shut behind him.

  Brayden looked at the wound at his leg and sighed. “Now I’ll have to get the car cleaned.”

  Dmetri laughed. “Better your SUV than my BMW.”

  Brayden pulled out of the lot. “What happened tonight?” Dmetri told him about the date—sticking only to the needed details. Brayden really didn’t need to know he’d been going down on her when Claude surprised him.

  “And he surprised you when you got to the car?”

  A nod. Brayden shot him a quizzical look, his lips pulling into a line.

  “I smell sex. Who’s the woman?”

  “Christine Barrows, the pack healer.”

  “A lykaen. Not your usual taste. She must be one refined package.” Uncomfortable with the conversation, Dmetri stared straight ahead. “Something like that.”

  “How badly do you think you injured Claude?”

  His ego deflated like a popped balloon. “Not nearly enough.”

  “Because you were surprised?”

  “Yes,” Dmetri said in a hard voice.

  They pulled up to the pack’s gate and, after getting through Gerry’s intense questioning about Brayden, he let them through. Dmetri led them to Vane’s cabin.

  “You’ll need to see the healer for that wound.”

  Dmetri smiled. “I’d planned on it.” Couldn’t wait actually.

  It was late as Vane ushered them into his study.

  “Sarina’s asleep with Vince.”

  Dmetri stood so he wouldn’t bleed on the furniture. “Finally decided on a name then.” Vane grinned as any proud father would as he took a seat. “Damn right.” On a serious note, he turned to Brayden with a nod. “Tell me what happened.”

  “Had a run in with Claude tonight. He’s determined to try to kill the Kategans. Thinks he’ll be able to become Alpha of the pack and combine them…if he can kill you all off.” Vane shook his head. “A vampire running a lykaen pack, I don’t know if I want to laugh or scream. Why does he want to do it?”

  Brayden took a seat. Even the way he sat spoke of his previous life—a commander. He’d been in countless battles and that kind of history changed a person. He sat stiffly, unsmiling.

  Dmetri doubted the man ever smiled, in fact couldn’t recall a time when he even laughed. And he’d known Brayden a long time.

  “The women in his clan are infertile, or so he says. During his trial, he said something about birthing complications. We haven’t been able to verify that since our Justicars aren’t allowed on his land. He testified that if they had more land then the women would start breeding again.”

  Dmetri nodded. “At trial he said that the tight space of his clan somehow affects the fertility rate.”

  Vane shook his head in disbelief. “That’s ridiculous. I mean it has to be. That’s fucking nonsense.”

  Brayden nodded in agreement. “True, however Claude’s literally been losing his mind for some time now. At Ariss’ trial, she testified that he’d been slowly losing his wits for years, growing more deranged. He believes it, that’s all that matters to him.” Vane nodded towards Dmetri’s wound which had finally slowed its bleeding. He’d need a good several pints tonight; already he felt lightheaded.

  “Yeah, he and I got into it,” Dmetri said.

  “I heard you went on the date with Christine,” Vane said. “Where is she?”

  “She drove back here. I haven’t been by to check on her yet. She was unharmed.” Dmetri was about to ask if she had, in fact, made it back but Vane beat him to it.

  “Gerry called me a while ago said that she came in crazed saying you were attacked.” He sighed heavily. “God, this is all a mess. Nothing can ever be simple anymore.” Dmetri shifted uncomfortably. As if Vane had started and couldn’t stop, he went on.

  “And on top of that, Sarina keeps talking about her prick of a father. I wish that dog was dead.”

  “Her father is King Brunes, correct?” asked Brayden.

  “Yup, the one and only prick of all pricks. She said she can’t get it out of her mind.

  Nothing I say or do helps either.”

  “Can’t get what out?” Dmetri asked.

  “She said she thinks her father killed her mother when she was twelve. Supposedly her mother died in a drowning accident while sailing on their yacht. Fuck. What do I say to that, you know? I don’t know and I can’t find out. Maybe if I tortured the bastard...” Brayden rested his chin on his hand thoughtfully. “I remember that case.” Vane sat up. “There was a case?”

  “Sure, when she was reported dead there was an investigation though I don’t think it was a big one. It’s unusual for a lykaen to drown. I think they ruled it an accidental death though.”

  “Yeah, but now Sarina keeps questioning things. Says she remembered him acting strangely after he got back from the trip with her; he was vague with details, things like that.”

  “Sounds like he was shocked at the loss,” Dmetri said.

  “Or lying,” Vane said.

  “I could look into it for you. It may take some time though,” Brayden said.

  Vane looked so relieved he slumped in his seat. “That’d be a miracle, if only to ease Sarina’s mind. How long do you think it’d take? I mean even if it was truly an accident, I’d rather know and have it looked into than not.”

  “A few months at least. I’ll have to dig up old records.” Vane came forward and clasped Brayden’s hand in a firm handshake. “Thank you. This means a lot to me. If I can ever do anything for you, let me know.” Brayden stood and made for the door. Grasping the door handle, he pulled it open. A mass of dark hair and girl fell to the floor. “I believe we have a listener.” Vane all but growled. “Vanessa what do you think you’re doing?” She humphed as she dragged herself off the ground, and then her eyes locked on Brayden.

  “I was curious,” she said slowly, never taking her eyes off the old vampire. She held out her hand. “And you are?”

  Brayden looked down at her hand but didn’t take it. Instead he turned to Vane, completely dismissing the girl.

  “Who is this?”

  “Vanessa Kategan, my cousin. She ran away from home. I’m letting her stay here while we get some things straightened out.”

  Dmetri watched the girl glare at Brayden for not taking her hand. She crossed her arms instead and continued to watch him. If he wasn’t wrong, and he rarely was, then he saw interest in her eyes. Dmetri would have warned her that there was no getting past Brayden; he was a warrior through and through. Hell, the man never even took a woman to bed, ever. He was a celibate, cold-blooded commander and that’s how he’s always been.

  “Get what straightened out?” asked Brayden.

  Eager to get out of there and go see Christine, Dmetri spoke for Vane. “Her father�
�s trying to mate her to an Alpha to combine packs. She doesn’t want to because he’s ‘old.’” Brayden looked down at the girl. “Law is law. If her father wishes it she must go through with it.”

  Vanessa gasped and took a step towards the vampire. If it was supposed to be intimidating, it was anything but. She was too young and skinny.

  “Joseph is old, fat, and nasty. He looks at me like I’m a damn tasty steak and I’m supposed to, what, just go with it because my father’s an idiot who wants more land? As if that will somehow make his dick bigger—”

  “Vanessa!” Vane shouted.

  She clamped her mouth shut, cheeks turning pink from either embarrassment or anger.

  She cocked her head to the side and smiled all white teeth and false cheer at them.

  Then she flipped Brayden off and skipped out of the room.

  Silence followed.

  “She’s insolent.”

  Vane nodded in agreement. “Sorry about that. She’s a little spitfire.” He almost sounded proud. Damn Kategans.

  Dmetri cut in before he died from blood loss. “Listen, gotta go. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”

  Dmetri left and made his way to Christine.

  Chapter 9

  The lights were off in her cabin and his car wasn’t parked outside. Walking like an elderly man, he made his way to his cabin. The walk was probably only five minutes but felt more like an hour. Relief poured through him as he spotted his car outside the cabin.

  He started for the door but stopped and looked back at the car.

  “Damn,” he muttered as he spotted her asleep at the wheel.

  He wobbled to the driver’s side and knocked on the glass. She came awake with wide eyes, hands clutching at the wheel. It took a second for recognition to set in but when it did, she smiled at him. That one smile almost made him forget about the pain in his leg. Almost.

  She got out and wrapped her arm around his waist as if she could hold him up. “Oh my God, you’re hurt. Come inside, I’ll take care of it.”

  He let her pretend to hold him up as they walked into the sparse cabin. He liked the feel of her arm around him, liked the tender, almost caring look on her face. No one looked at him like that.

  “Sit down,” she said ushering him to the couch.

  He stifled a groan as he sat. His leg felt like a hot poker was jammed inside his muscle.

  Each move burned the wound hotter; it stung like a mother.

  She started to head into the other room then stopped. “Damn all my supplies are at home.

  I’ll be right back.”

  Before she reached the front door, he stopped her. “Don’t. Just stay.” He wasn’t sure what compelled him to say it but he knew he didn’t want her to leave.

  “All right, just give me a minute.” Her heels clicked on the wood floor as she went into the bathroom. She came back out carrying a wet washcloth, a hand towel, and some medical supplies.

  Dmetri relaxed back into the seat. He needed blood and soon. His eyes popped open as she knelt in front of him. He could have sighed. This was what he wanted, minus the wound and lethargy.

  She lifted the wet material from around the wound to inspect it. “I’ll have to remove your pants.”

  Dmetri arched a brow as she reached for his belt buckle and started to undo it. His cock wasn’t completely dead; it jumped at her hands being so close, hardening at a rate that surprised him. She didn’t seem to notice though as she unbuttoned his trousers and pulled down the zipper.

  “Lift,” she said and he braced himself on his arm to lift up so she could sashay his pants down.

  She stopped in the motion of pulling them down, eyes falling to his groin. Dmetri wanted to preen. Her tongue darted out to lick her top lip and he would have groaned if he had the energy, but sadly all he wanted to do was drink some blood, get patched up, and pass the fuck out.

  Still he managed to say, “Is it to your liking?”

  She swallowed hard then tore her gaze away. “Black silk boxers, why am I only mildly surprised?”

  His grin was wicked. He liked her smart mouth. She made him smile, and she continued to surprise him. A sexy little puzzle.

  She finished pulling the pants down past his knees and didn’t even flinch at the ghastly wound. Her fingers prodded near the wound applying just enough pressure that warning censors blew up in his brain.

  “You’ll need stitches,” she announced.

  She grabbed the wet washcloth and cleaned up the blood, some caked, some fresh that had bled down past his knee. The wound wasn’t a clean cut either, in and out. That’d be too easy; Claude had dug the knife in, twisting the blade so he serrated the flesh around it. Crazy bastard.

  He closed his eyes and rested his head back on the soft cushion with a satisfied sigh. His body felt both heavy and light at the same time, almost like he was swimming.

  Gently she cleaned him, her touch light as a butterfly. “This might sting,” she warned.

  Liquid dowsed the wound and he didn’t make a sound even though it felt like she’d just poured salt on it. But quickly she put on a soothing salve that had his body relaxing even further into the couch. It wasn’t his kind of couch. He liked leather, black and sleek, and so soft he could melt into it. But, hell, he didn’t care right now. The cheap couch felt soft as a damn cloud.

  He didn’t know how much time passed but when he opened his eyes, she wasn’t sitting in front of him. He blinked as he looked around.

  “Christine?” His hoarse voice made him wince. He swallowed over his chapped throat wishing he had some blood.

  She came out of the bathroom with a small smile on her face. “I just went to put everything away.” She stopped near him, looking unsure...and so damned beautiful. Her curly blonde hair was a mess and frizzing at the top of her head like a fuzzy halo. Her dress was wrinkled, and her hands were red from washing them under hot water. She looked so natural and real.

  “I’m going to go now. You need your rest and, hell, so do I. What a night.” She chuckled softly. She leveled her eyes on him, brown and gold, colors he’d never really cared for before—

  they were quickly becoming his favorite.

  “Well, goodnight,” she said awkwardly and headed for the door.

  Dmetri’s head followed her. It took him longer to respond than it should have but he chalked that up to blood loss. “You’ll stay.”

  She laughed, turning back around. “Another order? I don’t think you’re in any position to give orders, Dmetri.”

  His brow arched, she was right. Still. He curled a finger at her. “Come here.” He resisted the urge to look down at himself. He knew he was a mess. He’d been in a fight; his knuckles were scraped and throbbing. His pants were down around his damn ankles and he had knife wound in his thigh. Still, she wouldn’t be leaving this night.

  She came, a small smile playing at her lips. When she got close enough he snagged her wrist and tugged. With a yelp, she toppled into his lap, barely managing to keep from hitting his wound. He pressed his cheek against hers.

  “That’s better.”

  She didn’t say anything but he heard her breath catch.

  “Lie down with me.”

  Before she could protest, he grimaced his way until he was curled around her back. She was so damn warm he shivered at the heat of it. It was like sidling up to an electric blanket only she was curvy and soft, fitting against him better than even he’d thought she would.

  “You smell good.” His eyes closed as sleep started to consume him. His body relaxed but he kept his arm around her waist. It just felt so good.

  “Oh yeah, what do I smell like?” she whispered.

  He liked her voice too. Throaty, womanly, full of life. “Flowers,” he said and then drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter 10

  Warm, smoldering heat engulfed him. Dmetri came to his senses slowly. At first he became aware that his head weighed more than a bowling ball and that he felt like he’d drank an entire bar’s
worth of wine. His throat was dry like it’d been rubbed raw with sandpaper and his thigh burned as if a cattle prod had stamped him.

  The gentle smell of flowers teased his nose and finally he opened his eyes. Surprise flitted through him followed by satisfaction. Christine was wrapped around him like a second skin, her leg thrown over his hip, her slender arm wrapped around his back. She’d turned in the night, or maybe he’d turned her, so they lay close together with her head tucked under his chin.

  Well that explained the heat and flowers.

  Careful not to jar her, he tilted her head back. She made a soft noise but her eyelids never fluttered. She was passed out in his arms. He didn’t know what to make of the sensation but looking down at her in sleep made him feel better than anything had in a long time.

  Her mouth was pulled into the tiniest of smiles and he wondered what she dreamed of that made her so happy. In that moment he knew that she would be his.

  The term girlfriend disgusted him. First off, the women he dated exclusively were certainly not girls, and they definitely weren’t his friends. Just the thought had his lip curling with revulsion. They were companions that stuck around until either one of them got bored with the arrangement—namely him.

  He’d have to get her out of here. When he had a woman, he wanted her close by at all times, for whenever his needs arose. She’d have to come stay with him. That wouldn’t be a problem. He lived in a mansion with his own valet. She’d be treated like a queen. No expense spared.

  She snorted in her sleep and he grinned as he imagined her laughing in her dream. She wiggled and pressed deeper into him. Suddenly, need assaulted him—though not the need he thought it would be.

  His stomach heaved, tightening into a hard knot in his belly as hunger reared its ugly head. He slammed his eyes shut as wracking pain pulsed through his body making him feel like dozens of blows were landing against him. His fangs protruded, sharp, and ready to strike.