Captiva Craving - Vampire Werewolf Menage (Six Feet Under Series Book Two) (27 page)

“Well, we can argue that all day long.” He gave her an exaggerated wink. “Are any of us really here? In the metaphorical sense, the experts -”

She plastered her hand against his sinful mouth, shushing him. “This isn’t a dream.”

He twirled his tongue inside her palm, the sensation mimicking inside her womb. “It’s you,” her voice shook, her tears falling fast, streaming through her hair.

“It’s
us
,” he corrected after pulling her hand away and kissing each trembling fingertip.

With widening eyes, she sucked in a relieved breath. Blythe flattened her hands on the bed, pulling herself up to settle against the pillows when a sharp pain lanced her shin. The second she winced, Sixten dropped his smile, stopping her with tender hands.

“I know you’re injured,” he said, gently pulling the covers away. “That’s the only reason I’m not ravishing you,
making love
to my wife, and crushing you against me. I can’t wait to do those things and more, moja láska. Hold still.” Deft fingertips brushed over her naked skin, his hands so familiar with her body. He examined everything in vampiric speed before slowing and moving down her legs, setting his eyes to the left. “This one?” He nodded to her culprit pain, her throbbing shin. He pulled his phone from his pocket, sending a blindingly fast text.

“I must have…,” she whispered, parts of the night seeping in. Then she remembered the shapeshifters, overgrown reptiles circling her with greedy eyes and sharp talons. She had kicked at least one as well as her father, and by her pain level, her self-preservation - something Salk insisted she didn’t have – possibly resulted in a fractured leg. “I kicked a big dinosaur looking thing.”

He swung his hair from his eyes, the morning light hitting his platinum streaks. Those arched brows popped high in astonishment and maybe a touch of pride. “You kicked a shapeshifter?” He placed his phone on the nightstand, and then wrapped his long fingers around hers.

“I had to get away, get back to you,” she said on a sob.

“I’ve sat here, staring at you for hours, convincing myself that you were actually home in our bed. Fighting with myself not to wake you, angel, you look so tired.” He cringed a little, smiling self-depreciatingly. “Well, my friends are glad I stopped pacing in front of you and growling at them to keep away…for hours.”

He was enormously muscular, always powerful, but the power radiating from him was different from before. Something she couldn’t put her finger on, but Sixten had certainly changed. “I want you more than ever. How can that be possible?”

“Moja láska, true love is never stagnant,” he whispered, staring longingly at her lips, “but grows every day.”

“Gianni,” she started to explain what had transpired between them and Sixten flinched. “Never mind.”

“You want me to know….” His irises glittered, looking frighteningly vulnerable.

Now, she understood the shimmering as a trait of Habaline blood. Still, she appreciated every facet of her man – not putting fear into the equation. However, explaining what had happened after Gianni had taken her
did
frighten her. Blythe needed to confirm what Sixten already knew, give him honesty. And she had no idea how he would react. Blythe tried to swallow a knot that refused to go down. “I can’t…”

“We got knocked off course again, angel. We’ll deal with it. After you feed, and we heal you, I’ll give you a nice, long bath.”

The shame was mortifying, bone deep with feelings she could not begin to touch. What if this changed things between them? “You can’t wash it all away with a
bath
.”

“You’re absolutely right,” he said sadly, locking eyes with hers, “but I can with my love.”

“I don’t think you understand what he made me feel.”

“I’ll tell you what I do understand… that you could never love him. You love
me
. As far as your debased captor goes, you’re right; I don’t understand the complex bond between a Donor and her Dynasty Vampyr. I’m told it’s an unequalled joining, often unbreakable. However, I do know blood bonds between those of human descent and Species are an overpowering complexity drawing the two together no matter what the human truly wants.” He clenched his eyes before snapping them open. “That’s why younger generations abhor blood slaves, they want to feel what is not forced. What is genuine strokes their egos far better than blood-speak.”

“I’m frightened, Six, truly frightened.” How had Gianni changed her? How would she live without his blood? On top of that, if she lived out the rest of her life, how would Sixten accept what happened?

As if reading her thoughts, he said, “I’m not going anywhere no matter what happened. Are you listening? I know what he wielded over you, the strength of a powerful immortal. Only a weakling would blame you for the selfish actions of a spoiled monarch. Don’t you think your male is stronger than that?” He tilted his head, listening to something outside. “I’m going
nowhere
,” he emphasized again, “not without you.”

She started to speak but he shushed her with his mouth. Brushing his lips over hers, he whispered, “Kash is here. We’ll talk about this later and only if you need to. I don’t have to know what happened unless you want me to.”

A rap at the door didn’t interrupt her response, she hadn’t one to give.

“Enter,” Sixten said without looking away from her, lifting the satiny sheets to cover her nudity. Even that simple gesture made her wince.

He shook his head, running an easy fingertip across her bottom lip. “I had no idea you were in so much pain or I would have called Dru sooner. I think you fractured your tibia. The other aches and pains look like mere bumps and bruises. We’ll try feeding you, patching you up with Species blood.”

“Mere bumps and bruises?” She raised a haughty brow.

“Merely
painful
bumps and bruises,” he amended with a hollow laugh before gesturing Kash over. “Where’s Dru?”

“He still can’t mist.” Kash’s eyes widened, before he looked at Sixten.

“I wish we were at Fort Myers Field from the get go, preventing Dru’s attack instead of wasting our time at Six Feet Under.”

“Six Feet Under wasn’t a bust.” He looked at Blythe again. “Rock said they wrangled seven, and, true to the werewolf’s promise, our females made out without a scratch.”

“Seven isn’t enough.”

“Wait. The doctor is hurt?” Blythe asked, recalling how Dru had always taken such great care with her, donating his own blood to keep her alive.

“
Still
hurt,” Sixten said, cocking his head at Kash. “Why?”

“Shifter loaded him with venom.” He lifted a shoulder, his leathers softly creaking.

“Why won’t he feed from Adam the same way I did?” Sixten’s brows knitted.

“Pride. He’ll heal up soon enough. I’m sure the Beta is feeding him alongside Maestru. Power fuels power.”

“Yeah, but not everyone deserves to brandish it.” Blythe realized she had forgotten her manners, meeting Kash’s lavender eyes, she added hastily, “It’s really good to see you again.” While rising, Sixten jostled the bed and her leg protested.

Kash took in her painful expression and shot Sixten a hard look, his eyes singed with displeasure. “She needs my blood.”

“Yours in particular?” She watched her husband – she refused to call him anything less – stiffen at the thought of her feeding from Kash.

“Your alternative is Oycher.”

“The one that reads my mind?” she asked, remembering the imposing vampire with long mahogany hair. His demeanor was nothing close to Kash’s, his sense of humanity seemed off kilter. “I don’t think so.”

He crossed his arms, widening his stance. “Every other Vojak is working a route, chasing down another lead…or dead end, as of late. Do you want to trust a civilian or a soldier you barely know? One look at her and any of them would be more than willing to sign on, but I tell you right now.” His lips parted, the tips of his fangs peeking. “That’s
not
gonna happen.”

A slow hiss left Sixten, reminding Blythe of a badly punctured raft slapping against rough ocean waves. “You make no calls in regards to my
wife
.”

“She needs blood,” he softened his voice, glancing at a blood soaked spot on the sheet, “and saliva in order to heal.” Since Sixten was a halfling, he couldn’t provide for her in that way, a nasty punch to his oversized ego. “It’s pointless arguing. I don’t think she wants to set a cast on her leg for a month or so. Nor do any of us want to risk her being treated at a human hospital,” he stated the obvious, though his tone was definitely clipped.

Blythe sensed the tension between them, but vampires were forever volatile so she didn’t give it a second thought. “Where’s, um,” she stopped, looking at his hands, “the bag?” Dru had given her transfusions through her veins, the doctor donating his own blood to heal her.

“It’s not a transfusion to fight anemia – altering your blood, Blythe, it wouldn’t take that much to heal your type of injuries.” Sixten looked at the window, nodding to someone. Blythe figured he had guards positioned around the manse and was thankful for each one of them. “A simple feeding is all that’s required.”

“Then what’s the problem…if he’s offering.” She flicked her eyes to Kash. “By the way, thank you for your willingness to help me.” Kash opened his mouth but Sixten cut him off.

“He’s fed from you,” Sixten explained his apprehension, but she didn’t get it.

“That wasn’t a feeding, Six.” Kash removed his leather coat, carefully laying it over a crème-colored slipper chair.

She certainly remembered Kash at her throat before he misted her to the Santuary. They were in this exact room when it happened. The werewolves were circling the house, and she recalled sensing something else, possibly the hunters. Sixten had shifted into a panther, threatening everything around her including Kash. But not before he had tried to mist her, roughly biting her throat in several places, feeding instead of misting. With her addictive blood, a surefire curse any woman could live without, he nearly killed her. If it weren’t for Kash coaxing him away, licking her throat closed with healing Species saliva before misting her to the sanctuary, she might not be alive today. So where was the problem in her drinking from him? Not that she wanted to taste blood that way. No matter what, it wasn’t natural for her. But the curative powers of Species blood was astonishing. Besides, Kash was right, a hospital was a definite risk - one that outweighed any possible benefits.

Why would it matter if he sipped when he misted me? “I don’t understand,” she said. “He’s offering to help me
again
. Frankly, I’m not as tough as you two. I could do without the pain.”

Sixten moved back to the bed, smiling apologetically. “Feeding or not, you sip from him in return, another bond could form,” he explained, “this one between you and Kash.”

“It’s not in the equation,” Kash said heatedly. “Last time, I didn’t take enough from her. And although you seem to think differently, a forced bond is the last thing I want.” He was openly disgusted, raising a finger directed at his friend. “Don’t put me in the same camp as that Dynasty fucker, Six.” He glanced at Blythe, mouthing a sorry for swearing. Then back to Sixten, he added, “I’m nothing like him and you
know
it.”

“I wasn’t comparing you two,” he snarled as he continued staring through the window.

Blythe watched his eyes move over the horizon in dizzying speed, so fast they nearly stole her breath. She could never forget that he was an immortal, but when Sixten did things like that, he truly freaked her out.
Wait a minute
, she thought. Earlier, he’d said he was pacing, keeping his friends away. “I forgot you were the tiger.” How could she forget the great animal standing over her as Gianni took on the shifters?

“We’ll talk about it later.”

“You infiltrated the roaming Habalines who were hunting, didn’t you?”

“Why not use my worst features to save the best thing I’ve ever known?” he asked somewhat cryptically.

“I accept everything you are, considering no features as ‘worst’.” She smiled up at him, watching as he fixed those scary-sexy eyes on her. A shiver climbed her spine, in a good way. “You should, too.” She watched as Kash quietly slipped into the master bathroom. She knew vampires didn’t need one per se. “What’s he -”

“Old School. His mom raised him right. Out of respect, he’s washing his wrist for you.” She raised a questioning brow and he added, “He knows I’ll gut him alive if you feed from his throat.”

“Savage,” she chastised, but when she giggled at his mock wounded expression, more pain shot through her. “Last night, I heard a man in that orange grove screaming, maybe taking his last breath, because of you?”

“Well,” he drew out the word, pursing his lips, “classify screaming.”

He winked and Blythe realized a straight answer would not come from those full lips anytime soon. They both knew he had killed more times than he could count. Mostly for honorable reasons, though transgressions he could never atone for filled his inner attic…and basement. Blythe would never ask him what they were. She didn’t need to know – ever. Nothing could change the way she felt about him. All the same, if Sixten required the pretense of a halo-sporting, sword-swinging, flawless hero - one who never truly bloodied his hands - instead of a shape shifting vampire with an extensive naughty streak, she’d give him that.

Kash walked back from the bathroom. Blythe met his easy smile with a nervous one of her own. Through the brief encounters she had with Sixten’s comrade, she always admired his unnatural empathy towards her as well as his incredible physicality. Today was no different. A tight brown t-shirt fitted his chest, straining around his biceps. Downward, it tapered around a narrow waist. It wasn’t the typical cotton blend, but weaved with something she’d never seen. His dark leather pants, the color of rich chocolate and typical wear for a Vojak’s safety, sat below his flat stomach, resting on his pronounced hip blades. One thing was for certain, Sixten wasn’t the only vampire in the room with a six pack.

“One day, you’ll make a lucky lady very happy, Kash,” she said, hoping he would live long enough to settle down with someone. Immortals may be long-lived creatures, but warriors were forever battling. Daily, Vojaks risked their lives for their people. Kash sucked in a sharp breath, and she instantly realized she made a vampire faux pas. Obviously, they weren’t close enough to discuss such matters. “Sorry,” she offered and eyed Sixten, wondering if he would rethink his new position. She didn’t want him fighting anymore for any reason. Ambassador or not, the Vojaks wouldn’t leave power, such as Sixten’s, on the shelf. For sure, fighting would work its way back into his life – their lives.
I want peace now…and his babies.