“Wait. So, you’re telling me that the man in this photo, the one dressed in a Stetson with ass-less leather chaps with a woman on either arm is the Vampire King of North America?” I question with incredulity. My eyes remain glued to the steel buns of one of the most dangerous men on the continent. Damn, those are some good buns.

“Vampire Lord, and yes, that is Darius. I think that was at Wade’s birthday, maybe the year before last? We threw him a ‘Cowboys and NavaHo’s’ party, and D came dressed like that. He tends to push the boundaries of appropriate most days, so ass-less chaps are probably one of his tamer costumes,” Marco chuckles, his gaze flickering over his phone that produced the image lighting up the darkened car. Our visit required a night meeting, otherwise the Vampire Lord may have gotten a little crispy. So here we were at eight pm, driving an hour out to visit an extremely dangerous vampire.

“And how exactly did you all meet?” I pry, wondering how three wolves just happened across a friendship with a Vampire Lord.

“He owns three cats, and one of them got sick, so he needed me to come over there after work hours to fix up Cassiel. With it being a vampire lair, I wasn’t going to go alone, so I brought Dylan with me. We got along, and next thing you know, all three of us were at his house playing cards once a month,” Marco explains.

“So, one of the most feared men in the country keeps three cats, one of which named, ironically, the same as an Angel?” My fascination peaking at the paradox that is Darius Knight, the Vampire Lord. Zane snorts from the other side of me, drawing my gaze over to him.

“Something funny?” I ask with humour, wanting to know if he shared my thoughts.

“One cat? The man named all his cats after Angels. Weirdest shit ever,” He retorts, rubbing his hand over his beard to hide his smile.

“Wait, you know him too?!”

“Yeah, I did some security work for him a few years back. Stayed in contact,” He says shrugging.

“How is it that all four of my mates know this man, like he is some social little butterfly, and yet half the fucking country thinks of him as a blood sucking psychopath?” I utter, my mind well and truly confused. Will I get to meet the psycho or the poker playing friend?

“He’s both. Just, don’t piss him off, he doesn’t forgive easy. We stayed friends, and this is probably true for Zane too, because we knew what buttons not to push. And remember, don’t make fun of the hat, he gets touchy,” Dylan comments from the driver’s seat, glancing at me through the review mirror.

“Well that’s helpful. I shall try not to piss off the centuries old, sometimes psychopathic, hat wearing Vampire Lord. Great advice, guys,” I huff, concern that I’m either going to ruin their friendship or get us killed growing by the second.

Our meeting is with Lord Darius tonight, though. The vampires have a somewhat similar hierarchy construct to us. They maintain several Vampire Lords in each country, and the number of Lords dependent on the number of vamps present in each country. Six Vampire Lords currently preside over the four million vampires country wide, which is almost equal to that of the wolf population. The vampires must live under the rule of the Lord who controls that area of the country. If a problem arises, the Vampire Lord is the judge, jury, and executioner. The only reason all the Vampire Lords of the country would unite for a judgement is if the decision affected other sects. Each Lord has a court, essentially a council of advisors that work under his or her rule to provide whatever the Lords need and require.

“Wait. Hat? Why would I tease his hat?” My mind begins throwing out images of a giant sombrero with feathers or something equally as ridiculous.

“He wears a Stetson almost all the time. He thinks himself a cowboy, God knows he’s lived in Wyoming long enough to claim the title. You’ll be fine, just follow our lead,” Marco clarifies, his hand caressing my thigh a little too high up to be soothing.

“Stop it, I don’t want to walk into a vampire lair smelling like sex,” I chide, yet my legs drift further apart.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart. Just so you know, you look stunning tonight,” he whispers into my hair as he brushes one more sensual touch along my thigh before removing his hand. Marco’s words make me blush and cause me to take inventory of my outfit: dark denim jeans with a black singlet top and heeled black boots. More kick ass than stunning I think, but whatever floats his boat. I wish we were at home…can’t we just have one fucking week to chill?!

I stare out the side mirror, watching the untouched land fly past us as we make our way into Wyoming. Thankfully, Darius only lives an hour away, so we don’t have to venture too far away from home. I hated the idea of leaving Wade at home while the rest of us make this trip, but I also understand the need for one of the Alphas to remain there in light of everything that’s happened. Neither the Pack, nor the guys felt comfortable enough to do that yet, and I don’t blame them. Closing my eyes, I try to picture Wade’s bright string that connects us, and focus on sending him love, needing him to know I miss him. His response is immediate, he sends back a thrum of raw sexuality that shoots right to my clit and has me rubbing my thighs together to get some sort of relief.

“Angel, you only make it worse by moving around,” Zane speaks low, concern and hunger filling his eyes.

“Blame Wade,” is my only reply, crossing my arms over each other, the pressure on my chest making my desire heighten.

I recalled the information I knew about Darius, going over it in my head. He was the Lord of North East aspect of the USA, he’s held that position for the last one hundred and fifty years without contention, he was often referred to as the most ruthless and manic Lord out of the six in the US, but he was also known as a great host and communicator. This guy should really get his mental health checked out. Darius rules his sect with an iron fist, and very rarely has problems with any vampires under his rule and in his territory. For that reason alone, my suspicions of Darius climbs, he’s revered for his ability to control his vampires, and yet we’ve had rogues floating in and out of our towns, attacking our people, his friends, and not so much as a ‘my condolences’ card. No matter how friendly he is, he is still a vampire.

My mind continues to circle around the little vampire etiquette I know, but all too soon Dylan slows the vehicle. The car’s headlights light up the night in front of us, spotlighting the huge wrought iron gate that’s at least twenty-foot high. I can’t drag my eyes away from the compelling beauty the gate presents. It’s embellished with all sorts of curled lines and decorative flowers, and soft, fluorescent lighting highlights the French accents of the gate, only making it more stunning. On either side of the fence sits a large brick wall, tall enough that I wouldn’t be able to jump, supernatural agility or not. It is fucking huge. Everywhere I turn, I find a new focal point, a new intricacy to gaze upon.

“Dylan Andrew’s, his Mate and Pack Mate here to see Darius,” Dylan faces a small facial recognition box off to the side. That’s some high-tech shit. We don’t even have a gate.

Without even a word as response, the gates begin to slide to the side, retracting behind the brick barricade encircling the property.

My eyes practically fall out of my head as we continue up the drive. Darius has constructed a lake house mansion in the middle of a farming range. Holy fuck knuckle.

The darkness of the night is broken by the hundreds of landscape lanterns, standing two meters high, spaced throughout the property. Their placement guides us past the acres of tall crops and towards the lit-up vampire lair. Wheat and corn fields surround us on our way up the drive, which normally would creep me the fuck out, but is only drawing me in. The lighting of the mansion and front gardens send a soft glow over the fields, making them seem inviting and beautiful, not ominous and threatening. Gentle hands reach over and clasp mine, Marco pulling me over to his side, so we can see more of the lair as we approach. The mansion appears to be three or four stories high and as wide as a football field. Every window has a light on with people moving past it every few seconds, their bodies casting dancing shadows onto the ground below. Zane rolls down his window an inch, letting the smell of the crops fill the car and the sound of Luke Bryan reach us. Dylan drives the car around a manicured lawn and beatifically sculptured, circular water feature out the front of the cabin, parking before he jumps out and heads straight for the door. I tighten my hands around Marco's, his grip responding to mine with comfort.

“I hate that he is in front of a vampire lair alone, regardless of friendship or not. I am allowed to feel worried.” I tell Zane and Marco down our bond, wanting them to understand my feelings, particularly considering my past with vampires. They nod in acknowledgment and both my Mates send me a soft smile, their simple gestures bestowing me with the slightest measure of relaxation.

The huge wooden door swings open, and the sound of country music intensifies. The arms of a tall man in a Stetson immediately engulf Dylan.

"Darius?" I inquire of my Mates through our bond, wanting to confirm the image of the man in my head with the reality, while trying to hold the growl in that’s threatening to escape.

"The one and only. He'll love you, sweetheart, just like we do," Marco’s soothing voice echoes through my mind, and the leather of the seats creaks as he leans in to kiss my tense forehead.

"Where is the lovely woman four of my wolf friends call a bride?! I cannot believe she captured the hearts of all of you," Darius drawls, his eyes seeming pierce mine even through the protection of the window.

"We're your only wolf friends, D. You aren’t that popular," Dylan laughs, clapping the Vampire Lord over the shoulder.

Zane opens his door and steps out, his hand reaching back in to help me out of the car, lips twitching at the corners like he is fighting a smile.

I fall out of this car all of one fucking time and now I need a hand. Goddammit.

Threading my fingers through his, I jump down from the high seat and get my first, unobstructed view of the Vampire Lord Darius, starting my perusal from the hat and working down. Dark auburn hair peeks out from under his weathered Stetson, hanging down past his ears and just touching his shoulders. Bright red irises watch me just as intently, and sharp fangs poking out from his small smile. His height brings just a little above Dylan but his frame is more lithe than any of my mates, and yet, he still looks built. His dark blue, long sleeve button up pulls tight across his lean muscles, the worn jeans he wears fit just right and brown leather boots that have seen better days complete his look.

"Are you finished yet, Tiger?" The deep timber of Darius voice reverberates through me, and he moves closer to me in under a second.

"First off, yes, I am. Secondly, don’t call me Tiger, call me by my name, Ava," I retort, not liking how he invades my space and grants me a nickname already.

"You are a pretty one, aren’t you? But there’s more to you, too, isn’t there? More than just a pretty face?" His head tilts to the side, those blood red irises staring onto mine, trying to burrow their way into me.

"Could you see any of my mates making an airhead their Alpha Female?"

"No. No, I couldn’t. Funny pairing you found yourself in. Two Alpha pack leaders, and two natural Alphas. Are you dominant as well?" his tongue comes out to play with the fangs on display, drawing my attention to the sharp piercing teeth, as he takes my measure. My distrust remains unwavering.

"I am now. You don’t sound much like a cowboy Lord Darius," I quip, trying to direct the conversation away from myself.

"Language and diction doth not a cowboy make. It's all in the heart, Ava. Heart and hard work make the cowboy," he explains, holding his hand out for mine. I place my tentative hand in his, fighting the urge to pull it back at his cool touch. Instead of shaking it like I expected, he pulls me into a big bear hug. The impact of his cold body slamming into mine knocks the breath out of me, and I flail my arms behind him, unsure where to put my hands. I glare at Dylan, Marco, and Zane, all leaning against the enclosed entry way wall, watching our exchange with a mixture of concern and humour that tightens up their faces in the cutest way possible. Darius doesn’t seem to be letting go, his grip only seems to tighten the longer I go without returning the hug. I lift my arms and wrap them around his back, patting his shoulders as I try to angle my chest and hips away from the intimate contact with his skin.

“Now, shall we get started with this meeting? I doubt any of you want to be away from your Packs for very long. Speaking of, where is Wade this evening?” His arms release me, only steer me towards the entrance of his lair. Doesn’t that sound creepy? Although, this place is so far from what I imagined a vampire lair to look like. Much less Dungeons and Dragons and much more high-end living.

“He stayed behind to deal with Pack business,” Dylan offers of a vague reply, and my eyebrows raise in his direction which he replies with a subtle head shake. If Darius is their friend, why the subterfuge around the real reason Wade stayed home?

“Damn. When business doesn’t require our attention, we should plan another poker night. Bring the delectable little wifey here,” Darius insists, his arm draping over my shoulders, which brings his hand just a little too close to my chest. Three different timbered growls sound in the small area before I can shove my elbow into the gut of a vampire.

“Darius, hands off our Mate. Now,” Zane growls, his eyes tracking the arm that begins to lift off my shoulder. Mac holds his hand out for me to take, and I tangle my fingers in his, before he tucks me under his protective arm. I know they said I should just follow their lead when it came to interactions with Darius, but all these uninvited personal space invasions are starting to make my skin crawl, and now I’m dangerously close to punching said vampire in the face.

“Apologies. I didn’t mean any harm, and I would never do anything to insult your Mating. Now, should we enter and get this shit sorted?” Darius replies in earnest, his head inclining towards the door.

“The sooner the better,” Dylan mutters, waiting for Darius to open the front door to his estate.

The huge wooden double doors swing open and the sounds of country rock only blare until I can feel the sound vibrating against my skin. I try to absorb everything I’m seeing but it’s all too much and my eyes dart around the room unable to choose a single spot to focus on. The cab-ansion, Hah! Cab-ansion, Cabin-Mansion, I can be so damn funny, opens up to a huge sunken lounge room. Dozens of Vampires fill the space, all in different stages of relaxation, lounging on the large leather couches that frame two of the walls facing a huge flat screen TV. Others focus on the pool table and the two-people facing off. Assorted glass cups litter all available surfaces, some filled with beer, others flat champagne, shot glasses, and some glasses showing red fluid trickling down the sides of the abandoned glass. Ewww. Still unsure where to look, I continue to take in my surroundings. The rest of the open room fits the cabin description; high ceilings, brown and black accents, lit hallways and stairs leading off to different rooms and levels of the lair. The moonlight streaming in bathes the room in an almost magical glow, the huge glass windows that surround the room on either side allow the darkness and the light to dance together.

All movement freezes, as the eyes of all the vampires lock onto us, scrutinising the strangers, the wolves, in their presence. Some lips raise in a silent snarl at our entrance, regardless of the fact Darius serves as our escort. My own lifts in a responding snarl, a growl starting to grow in my chest in response to the threat all these vampires represent. Some just look at us with open curiosity, their gaze not missing a single twitch of our bodies, waiting for us to make the next move. I notice one of the vampires on the lounge start to move towards us, his mouth opening as his fangs descend even further and his claws sharpen. All too soon he lunges, and my body tightens to defend myself. Darius steps in front of us, his hand slamming into the chest cavity of the Vampire, his back twitching with the muscular force, and yanking his heart out with his clenched fist. The vampire’s collapse to the floor is instantaneous, his body unmoving and eyes vacant as they stare up at the ceiling. Darius takes front and centre, his posture straightening even further, his shoulders pulling back and lifting up as he turns his head to address the fifty or sixty vampires within our line of sight. He drops the heart onto the chest of the vampire but doesn’t even bother to look down at the dead body before he addresses the others, who now all wear expressions of sadness, confusion, and fear.

“These are my protected guests. Do not touch them, or I will make your very long existence worse than even you could imagine. He got off lucky. You all know my rules, follow them.” Darius growls, the command in his voice clear and the threat deadly. Yep, there’s the psycho vampire I’ve heard about. He just ripped a fucking heart out with his bare hand. He nods towards two of the largest vampires I’ve ever seen, their size only challenged by Zane and possibly Wade, had he been here. The two vampires move swiftly, picking up the body and removing it from the room in the space of two blinks. Without another word, Darius turns his back on the vampires and marches towards the stairs off to the right of the sunken room. My hands still haven’t released their death grip on Marco’s, and his eyes search mine to make sure I’m alright, our bond flowing with calming emotions. Dylan takes point in front of me, just behind Darius, the tension in his shoulders relaxing with every step away from the still silent vampire crowd below us. Zane waits until Marco and I begin to climb the stairs, and then pulls up the rear. My Mates, forever taking on the protector role around me, not that I really needed it. I try not to stare, I honestly do, but there’s only so much will power a woman possesses. Dylan and Darius’s asses held capture by tight jeans, their muscles contracting and lifting as they push their bodies up the stairs enrapture me. It was like I was hypnotised. I felt a slight tingle inside my brain before Zane’s voice echoed in my head.

“Angel, focus, please,” He teases, his hand brushing my own jean encased goodies.

“Likewise, Bub,” I quip, almost laughing out loud as I realize just how close to my ass his head actually is with stairs this steep. The amusement drips from my other mates in the room, Marco’s tight grip on me pulls me closer to him, his nose tracing the path between my shoulder and ear in affection.

“Focus,” I hiss to everyone, a small growl rising up from my throat in an effort to keep my hormones in control.

Darius turns off the staircase on the second level, the brown and black accents only continuing through this section of the house, the walls decorated in paintings and photographs spanning at least three hundred years. The huge windows that accent the end of the hallway make the space between doors feel huge, and the interior decorating is manly, but clean. Darius guides us into a room at the opposite end of the house to the staircase, removing his hat as he waits for us to step into the room first. I look around, assessing the room, waiting for anything to jump out at me, and only relax when nothing moves around us. A floor to ceiling bookcases frame a big, wall mounted tv screen, a large antique desk faces the bookcase, and two deep leather chairs sit opposite the huge desk. Marco guides me into one of the chairs, and then takes sentry at my back, his hands coming forward to hold the nape of my neck in his control. The seat next to me puffs out air as Dylan sits down, whilst Zane stands with his back next to the door, watching all entrances and standing in a at ease position that hints at his military background. I need to know more about their pasts, we still have so much more to learn about each other.

“Now, what was so important that I needed to conduct a business meeting with you, and not just our normal poker night meeting,” Darius sighs, his fingers coming up to rub at his eyes and then run into his long auburn hair.

“Have you heard about what happened to our Packs?” Dylan asks, his own tired expression meeting his friend’s, needing to understand his culpability before sharing information.

“Yeah, I have. I heard about the rogues attacking your property. You have to know that if I had the chance, I would have helped,” his chin dropping to his chest and another huge sigh leaving his unanimated body before he looks back up at us.

“We’ve faced our own problems with rogues… and lones. They’ve attacked my clan as well, at their homes, at our businesses, even out on the fucking street. I’ve called back all my members living in the vicinity of the property because we didn’t know who would be attacked or when. At the moment, only the members living here in Wyoming and in nearby Montana have been targeted, but it’s spreading. Those fuckers have molotoved my fucking club and killed my clan during the day and at night, which means they’ve got fucking day walkers on their side,” Darius’ anger flares in full force, his fangs descending and red arteries spreading though his eyes. The mention of lone wolves has us all sitting up a little higher, four snarls rip from our throats at the thought of other wolves involved in this clusterfuck. Anger, confusion and disappointment run rampant through our bonds.

“Fuck. We had no idea, D,” Dylan empathizes, his hands scratching over his styled hair.

“It’s fine, you’ve had your own things to deal with. Now tell me, what the fuck is going on?”

“A few wolves took it upon themselves to bribe rogues with live wolves to drain in exchange for them to go in, attack, and kidnap a few wolves, forcing the affected Pack to come under the rule of the one pulling the strings. We stopped at least one, but he hinted at something higher up. They use rogues to do their dirty work, putting the blame on Lords who can’t control the rogues and forcing the wolves to not retaliate due to an ‘investigation’. That’s what’s going on. Considering you’re the closest Vampire Lord, I get the feeling you’re about to enter into some major political shit with the wolves,” Dylan runs through his explanation quickly, with the final portion dripping in sympathy, watching the now motionless vampire.

Darius explodes in a flurry of movement, his hands coming up to rip the desk off the ground, and throwing it off to the side towards the door we entered through. Dylan, Marco, Zane and I move quick enough to miss the flying debris from the breaking desk. His movements become near impossible to track as he dashes around the room to destroy his study, the TV gets yanked from the wall into the ground and the beautiful books strewn across the floor, pages falling out all around us. The angry roars and snarls continue for a good few minutes until Darius remains nothing but a dishevelled, panting, angry vampire. We all continue to stand still, unmoving and barely breathing, hoping to not be the next focus of his anger, and yet all of us ready to spring into action. His shirt untucked and askew, hair in disarray and only after a few minutes of silence can he face us with eyes that seek nothing but retribution. Vampire is a bag full of crazy right now.

“Sorry D, we don’t want to bring this to your doorstep, but it seems as if it’s already knocking on your door,” Marco tries to placate to the now motionless Vampire Lord.

“Yes, I believe you may be correct, Marco. I apologise for my uncharacteristic and unnecessary reaction. Now what is it that you had in mind, friends?” His hands come to rest on his hips, his gazes flicking between us all but coming to rest on Dylan and me.

“We want to propose a trade of protection. We will help patrol your larger properties during the day, if you reciprocate and help us patrol our land and businesses during the night. We also want to help with the trade of information. We aren’t exactly working under the Council’s orders. They don’t want us to retaliate, but if you can get any information out of these rogues that we can’t, then I’m all too happy to share what my Pack finds out regarding what they want from you. If they are targeting you too, then there is a reason behind it. We can’t just ignore that there may be a connection,” Dylan lays out our plan, his methodological way of thinking piecing together the information. Darius’ head extends back so he stares up at the roof, out a large skylight I hadn’t noticed until now, his eyes tracking the moon just starting to reach the edge of the glass.

“I’m in. I’ll allow twenty vampires to spread across your property and your business at night, if you reciprocate with the same number,” His eyes come back to ours, assessing us like a predator would his prey. He can think again if he believes us fucking prey.

“Deal, twenty wolves to patrol your largest property and a few key businesses during the day starting tomorrow at dusk,” Dylan agrees, stepping towards Darius. Then it hits me, what about aid? What if we get attacked again? We need back up! Before they can clasp hands, I step forward, my hand going to Dylan’s shoulder and inch him back as everyone peers at me in inquisition.

“If we get attacked by rogues, can we call on you for aid? No questions asked, no extra deals cut. If you can help, will you?” I ask, direct with my questions.

“If I can, yes I will. In exchange for the same promise; If wolves attack us, will you come to my aid?” He counters with a raised brow. I know this should be the Alpha’s decision, but fuck it, I’m Alpha Female. I need to protect my wolves.

“If it is in relation to this issue, then yes,” I confirm, making it clear that we are not his fucking personal body guards.

“Of course, I understand. Then my answer is yes. Please keep in mind that this is between us, because we are friends. If it were those cunts that call themselves a Council here, my answer would have been entirely different,” His hand making contact with Dylan’s and then mine with a firm shake, and the deal is done.

“Perfect, now, I think we all could use a fucking drink,” I suggest, looking around the trashed room and back to my Mates, my shoulders shrugging.

“What? This was really stressful, ok?” I send to my mates in response to their open amusement.

“Couldn’t agree more, beautiful,” Dylan responds after clapping Darius on the back and pushing him towards the door.

“Off to my poker room we go then,” Darius laughs as we walk out into the hallway. Dylan grabs my hand as we clear the doorway, Marco takes my other hand and Zane pulls up the back again, his hand coming up to cup the back of my neck as we walk further into the real den of sin inside the vampire lair.