Captiva Craving - Vampire Werewolf Menage (Six Feet Under Series Book Two) (12 page)

That shocked the hell out of Ryan. Obviously, Rock
really
wanted Dakota, but he never took her no matter how many times she invited him to. Ryan always respected the fact that, instead, Rock hooked up with a female and explained from the get-go what
wouldn’t
happen the next day. If she accepted Rock's no attachment rule, they shared a night of fleeting pleasure. If she wanted more, he walked away.

Only because, one day, Rock would find his celestially appointed mate and didn’t want to fall in love or want a female to love him back. Ryan knew exactly how that went. He hadn’t found his Bride, and he had wanted Blythe so much that, at times, he thought he would go completely crazy. Like Rock, he expected to cross paths with his mate eventually. They had fought many wars, bloody battles, and the occasional territorial fight side-by-side, but none of those resulting injuries came close to the unbearable pain of heartache.

“There’s no
allowing
the celestial pull.” Bane crossed heavily tattooed arms over his equally tattooed and very bare chest, soaking in the Florida sun. “When it draws you, it is what it is.”

Noticing the tight set to Rock’s heavy shoulders, Ryan interrupted Bane’s fun, “Talk to me, Beta.” He slid in,
finally
misting
down the walkway shielding the outside world. No one else walked the faction tunnel; still, the three shut themselves in a nearby room to keep out nosy immortals.

“No clue where Blythe is.” Bane braced his hands on the back of a chair, his biceps tight. “The more time that passes...” Rock went over, elbowing him in the back, his way of asking if the Beta was okay. “I’m good,” Bane grated, his canines sliding over his chin. “I had to defer to Sixten Kovac.”

Ryan didn’t hide his astonishment. “In what way?”

“Blythe,” he answered, his massive hands clenching on the metal. “When we find my…
her
, she goes straight to Sixten’s lair as his mate. Jax, one of her half-brothers, arrived from Scotland and started hunting immediately. He’s going at it nonstop. I had to break it to him that he has no rights to protect her.”

Werewolves prioritized and cherished females like no others. So something of this nature was a kick in the gut. “We sort of knew that was happening, right?” Ryan said and stepped to a side table, pouring a homemade agave brew from a simple decanter, the only thing known to get a werewolf truly wasted. Considering Bane’s power had held the miasma most of the day, he thought a drink might relax the Beta.

He held the heavy tumbler in front of Bane, twisting his wrist. Usually, Ryan did not enjoy thinking about Blythe with Sixten, and at the moment; he didn’t like thinking about her
without
Sixten. One of his best friends and the only love he’s ever known remained at the mercy of monsters; that is, if she were even alive. “So no one has come up with anything on Blythe’s hunt?”

“No. Your Coven has been searching. Our Pack has been searching.” He shrugged those heavy shoulders, taking a generous swallow. “Vampire, will you be able to open Six Feet Under tonight?”

“It’ll be open. I know Blythe’s scent…her blood,” he answered, hitching his hip against the table, remembering the plan Rock discussed with him earlier.

“As do I,” Rock put in, speaking through clenched teeth. “Tonight, if anything walks through the club’s doors smelling of her, I’m on it.”

“You remember the signal Rock taught you?” Bane’s voice sounded hoarse, gravelly.

“Might I remind you that I’m a vampire?” Ryan gave him a disbelieving look. “Why would I forget a damned signal?”

Bane finished his drink and shot the same look back at Ryan. “Might I remind you that you nearly ate dirt on a permanent basis? And Rock had to drag your ass to safety.” He cocked his head. “Speaking of which, you still look like hell.”

“He just fed,” cautioned Rock, hooking a chair with his foot and settling onto it. Bane’s gaze flicked at Rock and back to Ryan.

“Not from him,” Ryan said before Bane got any bright ideas. Rock raised his eyes to Ryan; a flicker of grey swirled behind the periwinkle. A dangerous Beast stalked inside, it watched for something, possibly waiting. In return, Ryan half-closed his eyes and shook his head no.

“If a werewolf offered, you’d be stupid to pass it up, vampire,” Bane continued in a weary tone, narrowing a shiny gaze on Ryan and sensing something tense going on between them. “I know vamps mostly need human blood when they’re not mated, but immortal blood can kick-start immortal bodies, just ask Dru. He feeds from our mate Renee, but Arian and I lend a vein frequently. It’s not a big deal anymore, and considering you and Rock are tight,” he let it hang out there a second before he reminded Ryan, “we need every available male,
who we can trust
, up and running tonight.”

“I’ll be up and running by nightfall.”

Bane turned back to Rock. “Jude is glued on Tatum, ordered to stay with her in Miami. As of this moment, your attention is exclusively on this matter. Blythe’s return is the pinnacle. Of course, our other females, especially the unmated, need extra coverage. I’m expecting more Scottish werewolves from Ciaran’s Pack by morning.”

“Understood, Beta.”

Ryan pulled out his phone, pulling up an app that displayed the bar’s schedule. “By your decree, I’ve taken your female Were from her shift, but we’ll still have human females working the floor. Everyone expects eye candy there for all tastes. We go all-male and suspicions will rise, so I want extra guards on my humans.”

“No fucking way will there be any humans there.” Bane shook his head.

“Alternatives?” Ryan pocketed his phone.

“Get some of your combat trained females down there,” said Rock. “We all know your Coven has them.”

“You werewolves should seriously consider training your females.”

“We’re down to so very few,” Bane retorted. “Why would we train them to risk their precious lives when we need them for our race’s very survival?”

“A logical argument and I get it. But they still need to defend themselves.”

Rock laughed heartily. “Ah, you have never seen a female werewolf in full transformation during her heat, have you?”

Ryan shrugged. “Can’t say that I have.”

“Totally savage.”

“Ah, the ones you like to fuck.” Ryan laughed along with them. “Everyone says you like to chain, fang, and bang.”

“Everyone says, huh?” He shifted uncomfortably. “I’ll admit I zone in on the dangerous when I go at it.” Rock leaned forward, his Beast suddenly swirling over his body, making his skin glow in random places.

“Otherwise, a very long life can be, uh,
tedious
, is that right?” Bane said as he made his way to the door. “Unless you start attending rights to mate, buddy, life will definitely stay tedious. Find your girl and change your nefarious ways.” Bane shut the door behind him.

“I see this shit rolling off you, man,” Ryan said quietly. “I could offer to make Dakota Undead, but Maestru would kill my parents. It’s his favorite threat as far as I’m concerned.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I would never want Dakota turned Undead. That’s the exact thing I’m worried about with your selfish Coven Master.”

Ryan would be the first to admit, he was worried, too. “Anyone can see that you want her.”

“No,” Rock answered sadly, shaking his head. “Anyone can see
she
wants
me
, and I sure can smell it. Dakota’s intentions are clear, and I feel lousy about that. She’s Blythe’s bestie and we’ve all remained fairly close since you guys were in high school. At least until Sixten showed up again.” He shrugged apologetically. “Sorry, but it’s not my nature to trust a vampire. Speaking of which, the vampire standing too close to Dakota is a ruthless, powerful bastard, and I’m not having it. I owe it to Dakota to protect her, especially since she can’t protect herself. Clearly, I understand immortal politics, and you’re in no position to help her.”

If Ryan’s chin hit the floor, he wouldn’t be surprised. He doesn’t want Dakota? He’d take his word for it. He had no reason to argue. Though through all Rock’s admission, there certainly was an omission. “Maestru and Sixten are causing you this added tension?”

“Enough to irritate me, why?”

“You’re always dark, Rock, but nothing ever really bothers you. You are conditioned to this life-altering…mindless shit those of us from a younger generation are just learning to deal with.” He brought his fingers to his lip, picking at his piercing. “But for months, something’s got you beat. Like I said, I figured it was Dakota. I mean. Not that I keep tabs or anything, it's been a while since I saw a female on the back of your motorcycle.”

“It’s something personal and the only way it concerns you…is that it may come between us.  So leave it, Ryan. I’m done, and I’ll deal.” A quiet minute stretched between them before Rock got back to business. “For tonight, ask Maestru to send several of your Coven’s strongest females to Six Feet Under and I will have all the protection coming they need.”

Ryan caught a spark of nasty anticipation flaring behind Rock’s celestial eyes, the otherworldly glow settling across his sharp cheekbones. “And if a few Habaline freed straggle in there like we think they will?”

He opened a mouth equipped with oral weapons, nearly startling Ryan though he had a comparable pair of his own. “Then they’ll be staring down the serious end of my canines.”

Arian had his butt plastered to their bed, his jean-clad legs splayed out, and his long fingers digging in the sides of their mattress. His bare torso flashed werewolf tribal markings quickly shifting beneath his skin in random, quirky patterns. Some immortals mistook them for tattoos, Dru knew better. Their presence denoted his co-mate as a powerful Nordic pureblood, descended from potent Were royalty. By the speed at which the colors moved, Arian was either highly agitated or extremely horny. Dru took a quick inhale, the scents of a true, loving home washing over his palate. No sex lingered in the air, so Dru was betting on Arian being horny, well mostly. Considering their feisty Renee, anything could be up in the air at any given moment,
especially fur
.

Arian nodded a greeting, keeping it quiet so Dru could sneak up on Renee. He inclined his blonde head wearily toward an opened closet and said, “You cannot pack all of that, my mate.”

“Now, Arian,” she attempted to handle a nearly three-hundred pound werewolf without a lick of fear. Usually, Renee had no trouble whatsoever handling any of her men, in and out of the bedroom. “Surely you can spare some room in your bags?”

“In my bags?” He sniggered. “My
bag
needs to dump gazillions of swimmers,” he muttered more to himself than to her. Then his blue eyes clouded over. Shadows shifted behind Arian’s incredible irises, his Beast pacing back and forth inside him, longing to break free and dominate his given mate. A grow left his outsized chest, low and sexually menacing. A sound only a werewolf could make. Dru had heard it many times as he walked the Sanibel Island marsh, or when he and his co-mates made love to his wife. Dru shook his head. Renee dismissed that particular growl much too easily, and she would figure out her mistake very shortly. He looked down at his
Tag Heuer
and estimated. Probably within five minutes, he figured. Arian continued to argue since Renee had not heard or had not
responded
to his bag comment. “I’ll trade you,” he half-teased on a grating rumble, his werewolf’s way of playing with its mate. “One suck-off”- after he removed his fingers from the side of the bed, Arian then moved them over his thick bulge absently -“reserves a spot inside my suitcase for one of your
extra
outfits. Open toed shoes with a heel higher than four inches get a free ride. Oh, and naughty lingerie, including my favorite red lace thong, gets a place of precedence inside my carry-on…or maybe my front pocket, depending on my mood when we board.” He winked at Dru, smiling crookedly through lengthening canines.

Nearly crippled with exhaustion, Dru still managed to glide around the corner in vampiric speed. He would have made it, too, if it were not for tripping over Julius, Renee’s lard-ball of a cat. He braced his hand on the wall, stopping himself from tumbling over. Normally impossible for a vampire to be this clumsy, yet he was at a disadvantage from overwork and no blood. Julius snapped his tail straight up, which everyone knew was kitty-speak for ‘go to hell’. Dru narrowed his eyes shrewdly and showed Julius how a true predator reacted to an insult such as that, hissing and baring his fangs in a way that made Julius’s orange coat stand up all over his pudgy body. The little troublemaker ran for his life, well, waddled. But his moves were the fastest Dru had seen since he first met the feline.
So there.
No, he should not take pleasure in scaring anything under thirty pounds, but, this time, he could not find a way to stop himself. Although Renee turned a blind eye, Dru long ago discovered that innocent, cutesy creatures always spelled trouble, and Julius was a walking disaster.

“That cat’s such an asshole,” Arian muttered quietly, agreeing with Dru’s unspoken thoughts while still poised on the bed. “Yesterday, he used my new golf bag as a scratching post before he knocked it over and dumped a nasty load in it. I swear to the big man upstairs that if Renee hadn’t distracted me in a way only she can, I would be flossing my teeth with orange fur by now.”

“What did you say, Arian?” Renee yelled from the back of her closet.

“Nothing,” he answered, “You must have heard Julius’s stomach growling.”

“Not funny,” she said irritably. “I put him on that diet kibble the vet gave me, but he hates the dry stuff.”

“What male wants anything dry?” He quietly asked Dru before calling out to Renee, “Honey, have you considered leaving Julius behind on your trips to
Starbucks
?” Arian went on, while Dru neared the closet again. “Those cake pops aren’t the best thing for his figure and kitty car rides aren’t helping the roadster’s upholstery any. Julius pees when you stop short, which, incidentally, you do every time you make it to the other side of the causeway.”