CHAPTER TWELVE
“Hey, brother, you can come out now.” A human male crouched next to the porch and peered under it. “It’s safe. They’re all dead.”
Rolling his mate into the dirt behind him, he turned to the male, hissing and growling as he bared his fangs. This guy might have just saved his and Kamara’s lives, but that didn’t mean Nikolai trusted him.
The guy laughed. “Okay, calm down. No one is going to stake you or your pretty lady there.” He lifted his head a fraction, his gaze shifting to a point over Nikolai’s shoulder. “There’s a blood trail all the way from the police station, so I’m guessing they got you pretty good. We don’t have any blood bags, but we can keep you comfortable while you’re healing.”
Another male, this one just as large and broad in the shoulders, knelt beside his comrade. “We can always do this the hard way.” He held up a large pistol and shook it at him. “I can tranq you and drag you out of there.”
“Not helping,” the first male muttered, shoving his friend back. Then, to Nikolai, “No one is going to tranq you, okay? We just want to help.” He shuffled a little closer to the opening under the porch. “I’m Kellen Fischer. That asshole behind me is Jai Webber.”
The clouds parted, casting the man in beams of silvery moonlight. Still, Nikolai couldn’t see much beyond the fact that the man had dark hair and light eyes—blue maybe—and an inky black tattoo that covered the side of his neck before disappearing into the collar of his jacket.
Kamara had claimed to know them. She’d been adamant about it, in fact.
“Valkyrie?” His tongue stuck to the roof of his dry mouth, and his vision blurred. His heartbeat throbbed in his temples, making it difficult to concentrate as he fought to remain conscious.
“What did he say?” The one named Jai demanded.
“Valkyrie,” Kellen answered with a quiet chuckle. “Well, you’re not wrong, friend. How do you know about the Valkyrie?”
Blood seeped from the deep gouges that covered his body, saturating his long-sleeved T-shirt, but Nikolai wasn’t worried about himself. Kamara had fought bravely, but she hadn’t walked away unscathed. While running for their lives, the adrenaline had likely kept her from feeling the cuts and gashes that covered her back and thighs. Nikolai had seen the crimson that stained her clothes, though, smelled it, and his mate’s blood coated both of his hands.
He’d die to protect her, but right then, he couldn’t save her.
“Kamara Yamashito,” he slurred, his eyelids drooping as his vision began to dim. “My mate.”
“Kamara?” The male squinted, peering into the duskiness beneath the porch. “She’s here? She’s alive?”
“Help her.” He didn’t trust them, not really, but weighing his options, he had no choice other than to accept their aid.
“Okay, brother, we’re coming in now. You’re going to be cool, right?”
Nikolai growled again. “I’m not your brother.”
Kellen just laughed. “Yeah, all right. I hear you.”
“Stay there.”
“Wilder!” Jai called. “Bring the car and some blankets.”
Gathering Kamara into his arms, Nikolai rolled her onto his chest and dug his heels into the dirt, inching his way out from under the wooden planks. It took more effort than it should have, and by the time his shoulders had cleared the opening, every muscle in his body was quivering.
“Fuck,” Kellen breathed, “it is her.” Grabbing Nikolai under his arms, he dragged him the rest of the way out into the moonlight. “Wilder, fuck the blankets. We need the kit.”
The world tilted, spinning Nikolai into a deep void just as another man arrived carrying what looked like a black toolbox. When he came to again, he found himself sprawled on his back in the dead, yellow grass while a fourth man cut his ripped shirt down the center with a field knife.
“Kamara,” he croaked.
“To your left,” the man answered as he emptied a bottle of water onto Nikolai’s chest. “You’re healing, but not fast enough. We’re going to have to…”
His voice faded, and everything went black again. Nikolai drifted in and out of consciousness after that, catching only flashes of movement and snippets of conversation.
“I think I’ve stopped the bleeding, but if they don’t start healing…”
“…move them to the truck. They need…”
“…come back tomorrow.”
“No, we need to deal with them now. We don’t want those fuckers tracking us.”
“Look, I think Prince Charming is waking up.”
“Good timing. We’re almost there.”
Groaning, Nikolai blinked several times to dispel the blurriness, fighting against the hum of tires over the road that threatened to pull him under again. He could feel the heated air that brushed over his skin, but it did little to dispel the bone-deep chill. When his teeth began to chatter, he clenched his jaw, but that didn’t stop the shudders that wracked his body.
“Easy, brother.” A hand landed on his shoulder and squeezed comfortingly. “Just hang in there.”
“Not your brother,” Nikolai mumbled, pushing the guy’s hand away. “Where’s my mate?” Her scent permeated the vehicle, and her pulse throbbed in his ears. “Where’s Kamara?”
“She’s okay,” Kellen answered. “She’s in the front seat. We gave her a blood bag, and she’s healing.” Sighing, he dropped back against the seat beside Nikolai and carded his fingers through his long, blond strands. “I’m sorry. I know you’re hurting, but we only had one, and we kind of guessed you’d want us to give it to her.”
“You’d be right.” It went a long way in raising his opinion of the males. Looking down at his bare chest, he prodded the white patches of gauze that covered his torso. He was still bleeding, and the lacerations hurt like hell, but at least he was alive. “Thank you. I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t shown up when you did.”
Kellen shrugged. “I’m just glad we found you in time.”
“Did you turn her?” The man in the driver’s seat continued to stare straight ahead into the night, but the muscles in his neck and shoulders tensed.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but no.” Grimacing at the pain that lanced through his body, Nikolai pushed forward to peer over the edge of the seat in front of him. “She looks better.”
Kamara had curled into a tiny ball facing the door with her knees pulled up to her chest and her hands tucked under her chin. Her pulse steady, her breathing even, she slept peacefully, and Nikolai smiled as he stroked her hair. It was getting longer, almost to her ears.
She’d like that.
“Do you love her?”
Nikolai glared at the back of the driver’s head. He thought someone had introduced the male as Jai. Or maybe it was Kai. He didn’t know, and he really didn’t care.
“More than you can imagine.” Returning his attention to his mate, he skimmed the back of his hand down her cheek, marveling at how soft her skin felt. “I’d do anything for her,” he added, his hostility deflating.
“You almost died for her,” Kellen said from behind him.
Nikolai smiled. “She’s worth dying for.” But since his mate was okay for the time being, he had a few questions of his own. “How did you find us?”
“We’ve been tracking a pack of Ravagers for a couple of days now.” Shifting in his seat, Kellen leaned back against the door. “We found the ones in the jail cells, and a whole lot of fucking blood.”
“We followed the blood,” Jai continued, picking up where his friend had stopped. “We didn’t know what the hell the Ravagers were looking for around that house until we heard Kamara yell under the porch.”
“They’re all dead?”
Jai nodded. “Grim and Wilder went back to take care of the ones at the police station. They’ll catch up to us later.”
The Ravagers hadn’t always been monsters. They’d once been werewolves and hybrids, no different than any other Gemini. They’d had jobs, families, friends, and their entire lives ahead of them. Then the Purge had taken everything. The virus had altered them, enhancing their aggression and robbing them of their ability to shift. Without that outlet, the frustration, pain, and pent-up energy eventually drove many of them insane.
Killing Ravagers wasn’t something he enjoyed, but unfortunately, it was a necessary evil. Once a werewolf had reached a feral state, it was virtually impossible to bring them back, especially without a cure for the PN2 virus. Left unchecked, the Ravagers slaughtered mercilessly, not for food or any other logical reason, but for the sheer pleasure in the violence.
As for the monsters imprisoned in the police station, the Valkyrie would be doing them a kindness. Nikolai didn’t know how long they’d been locked inside those cages, but from he’d seen, he guessed it had been days, if not weeks, since many of them had been given a decent meal.
“Who do you think locked them in the cells?” he asked.
“My guess is the good law enforcement officers of Brookfield,” Kellen answered. “Of course, I doubt they knew who they were locking up at the time. Wolves probably got themselves thrown in jail for fighting, public disturbances, and shit like that.”
Nikolai fell back in his seat, flinching when the abrupt movement pulled at the wounds on his stomach. “They’ve been in there for two years?”
He was surprised they hadn’t died of starvation or killed each other long ago.
“I guess so. Oh, I almost forgot.” Jerking upright, Kellen reached into the cargo area of the SUV and pulled a dusty leather backpack over the seat. “I thought you might want this.”
Nikolai didn’t particularly care about bandages and coffee beans, but he knew Kamara would.
“Thank you,” he said for the second time in the span of a few minutes—to Hunters. “Kamara says I can trust you.”
“But you’re not so sure,” Jai concluded with a curt nod. “Smart. She’s right, of course, but still.”
“If we wanted you dead, we’d have left you for the Ravagers.” Digging through his own bag, Kellen produced a single-serving package of beef jerky. “Eat this. It’ll help.” He took another package from the bag for himself, and flopped back in his seat as he peeled it open. “Back to you not trusting us. It’s because you think we’re Hunters, isn’t it?”
Nikolai left the stick of dehydrated meat on the foldable armrest between them and arched an eyebrow. “Aren’t you?”
“No,” Jai answered as he slowed to turn onto a narrow, gravel road. “We lost almost everyone in Missouri, and some of them were former Hunters. The four of us you met tonight, however, were never associated with that particular group.”
Nikolai didn’t know if he believed them or not, but Kellen had made a damn good point. If they wanted to kill him, they wouldn’t have gone to so much trouble to save him in the first place. Maybe he’d been too hasty in his judgment. As Kamara had pointed out when they’d first met, Gemini had committed some atrocious acts both before and after the Purge, but he didn’t hold all of his kind accountable for the actions of a few.
These men hadn’t murdered his mother or his unborn sibling. They hadn’t hunted werewolves and shifters, or decimated entire families. Even if they’d been born Hunters, they couldn’t choose their families or change the circumstances of their birth. Nikolai was walking, talking proof of that.
“You obviously have some kind of training. Military?”
Kellen smirked. “Yeah, something like that.” He swallowed the piece of beef jerky in his mouth and cocked his head to the side. “So, do you at least trust us enough to tell us your name?”
Trust was earned, not given, but he had to admit the Valkyrie weren’t anything like he’d expected. Besides, they’d find out his name eventually. Once Kamara awoken, she’d have no qualms about sharing information with them.
“Nikolai Diavolos.” Of course, none of his friends ever used his full name, but he didn’t yet know if he could call these men friends.
“Ah, so you really are Prince Charming. Well, Nikolai, you seem okay, but your dad is a dick.”
There it was. They knew his name, knew of his father’s crimes, and yet, they casted no blame in his direction. It humbled him, but mostly, it made him feel like a fucking hypocrite.
“That he is.” Leaning his head back against the seat again, he closed his eyes and grinned. “You can call me Nik.”
* * * *
Kamara came awake on a fluffy, suede sofa in front of a roaring fireplace. She didn’t know where she was, nor how she’d gotten there, but it was enough that no one was actively trying to kill her.
That last thing she remembered was her and Nikolai hiding under and old porch with a dead dog while Ravagers hunted them. He’d been trying to say goodbye to her, but she wouldn’t let him. She’d done her best to be brave and optimistic, but in her heart, she’d known that if the Ravagers didn’t get them, the blood loss would. She’d been injured, but Nikolai—her mate had been dying.
Her pulse sped, her heart pounding up into her throat, and she gasped as she jerked upright.
“Hey, sleepyhead.” Sitting on the last cushion at the end of the sofa, Nikolai grinned in that special way that always made her weak in the knees.
He looked half-dead, sunken and ashen from his blood loss, but right then, he was the most gorgeous thing she’d ever seen. Throwing the blanket off, she scrambled across the cushions to kneel beside him. She held his face in both hands and stared, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “You’re alive.”
“I’m alive,” he confirmed.
“Good.” Releasing his face, she sat back on her heels—and punched him in the arm. “That’s for knocking me out, asshole.” Confident she’d made her point, she crawled into his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a deep kiss. “That,” she whispered, “is for saving my life again.”
Nikolai hummed as he rubbed their noses together. “We really do have to stop meeting like this.” With a sigh, he hugged he close, resting his chin on the top of her head. “I am sorry for putting you to sleep. I had no idea who these people were, and I was afraid you’d be walking into something even worse than the Ravagers.”
Curling into him, she pressed her hand to his bare chest, right over his heart, and nodded. “I understand why you did it.” His words registered, and she popped upright. “Did you say ‘these’ people? They’re here?”
“Well, someone had to save your skinny ass,” a male answered, striding across the room to flop down in an oversized chair near the fire. “Nice hardware by the way,” he added, tapping his very human canines with his index and middle fingers.
Kamara’s grin stretched so wide it hurt her cheeks. “Hey, Grim. It’s been a while.” It astonished her that Nikolai had agreed to be in the same room with them, let alone allow them anywhere near her. “I feel like I missed something.”
Both men smirked at each other, and Nikolai brushed a kiss across her cheek.
“We had time to talk while you were sleeping. I guess you could say we’ve reached an understanding.”
“High praise coming from this one.” Oliver Grimble—Grim to most people—pulled his inky hair back from his face, the movement straining the fabric of his black T-shirt. “I thought he was going to bleed out before we could get him out from under that porch.”
Yes, clearly, she had missed a lot. “How long have I been asleep?”
“Almost twenty-four hours,” Nikolai answered. “It takes a lot of energy to heal from something like what you went through.”
“We,” she corrected, fingering the edge of the bandage on his chest. “If it’s been that long, why haven’t you healed yet?”
“I’m healing.”
“Nik, tell me the truth. What’s wrong?”
Tilting her head up, he rubbed their lips together gently and sighed. “I am healing, but it’s taking longer than usual.”
“Because you need to feed?”
“Yes,” he answered aloud.
“Then, how am I already healed?”
“I lost more blood than you.”
It was a reasonable answer, but she still felt like Nikolai was hiding something. “Nik, stop trying to protect me and just tell me what’s going on.”
“I’m fine. We’ll talk later.”
“Bullshit.” Jumping to her feet, she rounded on Grim. “What the hell is wrong with you? Give him a fucking blood bag.”
“We used the last one in the emergency kit on you.”
The wheels began spinning in her head, and she turned slowly to look at her mate. Of course he’d made that sacrifice. She didn’t even know why it surprised her.
“Damn it, Nik.”
“I’ll feed when I can.” Taking her hand, he caressed her knuckles with his thumb. “I know that look. Don’t worry about me, cara mia. I’ll be okay.”
No. Absolutely not. His stubbornness would be the death of him, but not on her watch.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” she asked her friend, her tone cold, dangerous. “I’m standing here looking at about twelve pints of blood, and you’re telling me you couldn’t spare a couple sips?”
“We offered,” Izan Wilder answered as he strutted into the room. “He refused.”
Nope, that didn’t surprise her, either. “God save me from fools,” she muttered under her breath. “Someone get over here and give him your fucking wrist.”
“Kamara,” Nikolai growled from behind her.
She ignored him. “Well?”
It wasn’t like she had asked them for a kidney. Although, if Nikolai really needed one, she might. There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for him, and that included saving him from his own, stubborn self.
“Kamara, stop. This is not going to happen.”
“Oh, but it is.”
Nikolai’s jaw clenched, and the tendons in his neck strained. “This is a terrible idea.”
Ah. She finally understood the problem. She’d been thinking only of getting him well, not how she’d feel about him biting someone else. Glancing back and forth between Grim and Izan, she fell into a defensive posture and growled before she realized what she was doing.
Fuck, this was never going to work. Regrettably, it was also their only option.
“You have to,” she said finally. “I’d do it if I could, but we both know how that will end.”
She felt a little better, and she probably looked a damn sight better than her mate, but she was far from fully healed. If he continued to resist, she’d cut open her wrist and force-feed it to him, the consequences be damned. However, if she did that, she’d have to feed, and of course, Nikolai would feel guilty. Then, they’d just keep chasing each other around in the same, vicious circle.
She hated it as much as he did, but this wasn’t about her. Crimson bloomed across the white gauze on his chest, sides, and stomach. He needed blood, and she didn’t have enough to give him.
Kneeling on the floor at his feet, she took his hands and squeezed them tightly. “Nik, please. You have to feed.”
“He’s not the only one,” Izan interjected. “You look like shit.”
Kamara growled, but otherwise, ignored him. “I can’t watch you do this to yourself.” Bringing Nikolai’s hands to her lips, she kissed his fingers as moisture gathered in the corners of her eyes. “Please.”
Removing his right hand from her grasp, Nikolai smiled as he stroked her hair. “He’s right. You do look terrible.”
Kamara sniffled. “Charmer.”
“I’ll do it,” he said slowly, and she could feel the condition coming. “You need to feed as well.”
Before he’d even finished speaking, Kamara started shaking her head. He’d never heal if she drained what he needed right back from him.
“No, Nik. I can’t. I won’t. Not until you’re healed.”
“You know,” Grim said from near the fireplace, “there are two of us.”
“If one of you snaps, we can always tranq you,” Izan suggested, shrugging when Kamara gaped at him. “What? I’d rather not get mauled for doing you a favor.”
She thought it over for half a second, but she couldn’t bring herself to feed from someone other than her mate. Which was why it surprised her when she looked up to find Nikolai nodding.
“Nik?”
“I don’t like it.” Still smiling, he caressed the side of her face. “I think we have to, though.” He touched the bandage on her shoulder. “You’re not completely healed, either.”
“Maybe we could do it in different rooms.”
“No.” Nikolai bared his fangs and growled at Grim as he pushed up from the sofa.
When he began to sway, Kamara jumped to her feet and wrapped an arm around his waist to steady him. “I think what he means is that would probably make it worse. Seeing it is bad.” She knew from experience. “Imagining all sort of lewd things in your mind is worse.”
“I still don’t like this.”
“I know,” Nikolai sent back, “but desperate times, and all that.”
“Okay, so how do you want to do this?” Grim asked rising from his chair and rolling the sleeve of his black shirt up to his elbow. “Maybe just opposite sides of the room?”
Kamara nodded. “That could work.” Nikolai was right. This was a terrible idea, but if it was the only way to get her mate well again, so be it. “Let’s just do this and stop talking about it.”
They separated, her and Grim on one side of the sofa, Nikolai and Izan on the other. Neither human looked afraid or upset about being used as walking blood bags. In fact, they kind of looked bored with the whole process.
“Thank you,” she mumbled to Grim.
She’d been a bit of a bitch about the whole thing, and she didn’t want him to think she was ungrateful. She’d just been so scared for Nikolai, and so frustrated by his pigheadedness.
“Whatever.” Her friend shrugged. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
“Just don’t think about it,” she sent to her mate through their mental link. Wrapping her fingers around Grim’s wrist, she closed her eyes and brought it to her lips. “Focus on something else, Nik. Anything else.”
All that met her in return was a single word, repeated in an endless chant. “Mine.”
Trying to follow her own advice, Kamara did her best to put away any and all thoughts about what she was actually doing, or more to the point, what Nikolai was doing. Pressing her mouth to Grim’s skin, she cringed as her fangs sank easily into his flesh, the tips piercing the vein that ran down the inside of his forearm. The first splash of blood over her tongue filled her with immense guilt, and she almost pulled away when her stomach heaved.
Then, she swallowed, and everything changed.
The crimson trickling down her throat was like imbibing liquid sunshine that radiated throughout her body, illuminating and warming even the darkest recesses. Her muscles flexed involuntarily, the fibers strengthening until she felt like she could sprint up a mountain—or raze it to the ground with minimal effort. It was like chasing a storm, or riding a bolt of lightning
She drew on the wound again, shuddering from the same indescribable sensation that had met her the first time. By the third swallow, she felt completely healed, other than the fact that her head was starting to spin.
Fuck, she felt high, euphoric, but oddly focused. It was like she’d been staring through a dirty window all her life, and now, she could suddenly see clearly. Colors were brighter. Sounds crisper. Smells almost overwhelming. She’d thought becoming a vampire had heightened her senses, but this was something altogether different.
Lifting her head, she stared up at Grim with fascination and awe. “That’s not normal.”
“Oh?” Pulling his hand away, he shook his sleeve down and took a step back, but there was far too much innocence in his tone.
“I’ve tasted human blood,” she continued. “That…” Pausing, she tilted her head to the side. “What are you?”
If he answered, she never heard him.
An ear-piercing roar erupted throughout the room, bouncing off the walls and vibrating the windows. Kamara jerked around, watching as Nikolai shoved Izan away from him hard enough to knock him into the wall. His gaze locked on her, he strode toward the sofa, hurdling it effortlessly, his focus never wavering as he marched toward her.
Damn, he looked amazing, his skin radiating with health and vitality. His hair gleamed in the firelight, and the sunken hollows had vanished around his eyes. Even the bruises and cuts on his chest and arms were healed. It wasn’t normal, not at all, but she was so relieved that it just didn’t matter how it had happened.
“Nik? Nikolai, breathe. It’s over now.”
But he didn’t stop, didn’t listen. Without hesitation, he pulled her into his arms, covering her mouth in a searing kiss that set her on fire.
Her back met with something hard and unyielding as her mate devoured and consumed her. His tongue plunged between her lips, attacking her mouth with a fierce possessiveness she was helpless to resist. With one muscular arm encircling her waist, Nikolai anchored her against the wall while his other hand jerked at the waistband of her fitted jeans.
“Off,” he demanded. “Now.”
Nikolai needed her, and more importantly, he needed everyone to know she belonged to him. Watching her feed from Grim, seeing her lips moving against the male’s skin had nearly undone him, and it had taken every ounce of restraint not to fly across the room and remove the asshole’s head from his shoulders.
She needed the blood, and she already looked better, but that did nothing to temper his murderous thoughts. The only thing that could have been worse was if he’d had to watch someone feed from her.
The thought alone twisted his gut, and he growled against her lips as he twisted her waistband in his fist and yanked hard, tearing the thick fabric down the center. The alluring scent of her arousal permeated the air around them, and every inhalation made his head spin and his cock throb.
“Need you.”
“Yes. Need you,” she echoed, her breath warm against the shell of his ear. “Hurry.”
Shredding the remainder of her clothing with his claws, he grabbed her pert ass, holding her easily as he licked and nibbled down the side of her throat. Kamara’s legs encircled him, gripping his flanks and urging him closer. Lost in her scent, her taste, the way she arched against him and moaned, he didn’t just kiss her—he branded her, rubbing against her to cover her in his scent.
Grinding his trapped erection against her naked pussy, he cupped the swell of her breast, massaging the firm, creamy flesh with his fingers. Then he captured her hardened nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. He twisted and pulled, gently at first, then a bit harder, remembering just the way she liked it. Kamara didn’t disappoint, rewarding him with a loud, throaty moan that tripped his pulse into overdrive.
Every urgent slide of her tongue, each hard jerk of her hips, shoved him recklessly closer to the edge, but he needed more. He needed to be inside her, to feel her surrounding him as he reestablished his claim, joining them as one and marking her for everyone to see.
Dropping his hand from her breast, he eased back just far enough to dip a single digit between her folds. A strangled groan tore from his chest when he encountered slick, wet heat, and he dropped his forehead to her shoulder as he skimmed his finger along her drenched core.
Kamara spread her thighs wider and rocked her hips, thrusting against his hand as she tangled one hand in his hair and reached for the waistband of his cargo pants with the other. Her gasps and moans turned to growls of frustration when her trembling fingers couldn’t unclasp the button.
“Nik, please,” she begged, stroking him through the fabric. “Hurry. Please, hurry.”
Too far gone for propriety, he jerked on his waistband, popping the button off and breaking the zipper so that he could shove the fabric off his hips. Pressing the head of his cock to her slick entrance, he bent his head, capturing her nipple in his mouth as he slid into her tight heat with a deep, dark growl.
Her silky walls clamped around him, pulling him deeper until he was seated to the base. Her sharp cry reverberated around the room, and when she arched against him, clawing at his back and shoulders, he nearly lost his fucking mind.
One day, he’d make love to her properly. He’d shower her with attention in a room filled with candlelight and roses as he worshiped her body on an actual bed. This wasn’t that day.
Pulling back until on the flared crowned remained hidden, he paused, then plunged forward, driving into her heated core. Hard and fast, he took her against the wall, pounding into his mate with an urgency he couldn’t tame. He’d always been the calm one, the one who could keep his head while everyone around him devolved into chaos, but not with Kamara. Her very presence stirred something inside him, something primitive and dangerous, and her touch ignited long-buried instincts and desires.
She stripped away the mask of civility he presented to the world, laying him bare and vulnerable at her feet. When they were joined like this, body and soul, her cries just as loud as his, her movements just as eager, she anchored him. She offered him a safe place to lose control, and he took it without question, because he knew when he fell apart, she’d be right there to catch him and put the pieces back together.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, Kamara stared into his eyes as she moved with him, encouraging him to take what he needed. “I’ll always catch you,” she panted, her voice ragged and breathless. “Let go, Nik. Let go and let me catch you.”
Her words undid him, leaving him powerless to deny her anything.
Their tempo increased, every snap of his hips coming harder and faster. Nearing the pinnacle of release, he insinuated a hand between their slick bodies, searching for the swollen bundle of nerves that would send her flying.
Slipping between her wet crease, he found her clit with his thumb, stroking it in tandem to his thrusts. Crying out, Kamara dropped her head back to the wall and tensed, her body tightening as her velvety heat constricted around his pulsing cock.
“Don’t stop,” she demanded, releasing her hold on his neck to press his hand firmly against her core. “Keep going. Keep going.”
“Open your eyes, cara mia. Watch me.” Goddess above, he couldn’t get enough of her, and there was no greater joy that watching her in the throes of passion. “Come for me,” he growled. “Come for me now.”
“Nik!”
Eyes closed, head back, she bucked and thrashed, riding the waves of orgasm as her inner walls clamped around him. Then, with a fierce growl, she lunged at him, tangling her fingers in his hair to hold him immobile as she embedded her canines in the side of his neck.
Calling her name, Nikolai pumped faster, his rhythm faltering as need consumed him. When Kamara fell back again, tilting her head to bare her throat in offering, he couldn’t wait any longer. Growling, he closed his mouth over the creamy skin along the curve her throat, sliding his fangs through her smooth skin as he rode the waves of his own orgasm, spilling himself into her slick core.
She was his, always and forever, and with his claim on her reestablished, he floated weightlessly in the afterglow of their lovemaking. Extracting his fangs from her neck, he drew his tongue over the mark, then kissed up her throat, along her jaw, and finally, captured her lips.
“I love you, cara mia.”
“Mmm,” she hummed, “and I love you.” Smiling, she brushed his damp hair back from his face and cradled his cheek. “Thank you.”
Her words made no sense to him, and he turned them over several times in his mind before giving up and shaking his head. “Why are you thanking me?”
“For trusting me.” She brushed their lips together chastely. “You’re right, you know. You don’t always have to be in control. I’m happy to take the reins sometimes.”
“As I am well aware.” And he did trust her. He trusted her with his life, with his future, and more importantly, with his heart. “You are a warrior, a survivor, and perfect in every way. How could I not adore you?”
“Oh, yes,” she teased through a bout of giggles. “Flattery me, my sweet prince.”
Nikolai nipped at her bottom lip and growled. “You are trouble.”
“Which you knew the moment you met me.” Still grinning, she rested their foreheads together and sighed. “I guess we should get cleaned up and find some clothes.”
“We will.” He was sated, but not nearly satisfied. “In a minute.”
“Nik!” Laughing breathlessly, she slapped at his shoulder when he tried to kiss her again. “Come on. The guys probably think we killed each other.”
“So?”
“Nik!”
Grumbling under his breath, he eased from her body and slid her down the wall to the floor. “Fine, but I am not nearly finished with you, cara mia.”
Retrieving the blanket from the floor, she wrapped it around her middle, hiding her nude body from his gaze. Without a word, she sashayed across the room, her hips swaying hypnotically, but she paused at the mouth of the hallway and looked over her shoulder with a sexy smirk.
“I’ll hold you to it.”
Nikolai had been surprised to find that the house they were in had not only running water, but hot running water. His mate had rolled her eyes when he’d suggested they shower together to conserve such a precious commodity, but when he’d brushed his lips across the mating mark on her neck, it hadn’t taken long for her to change her mind.
He loved how responsive she was, and he looked forward to learning all the ways he could unravel her, but unfortunately, that would have to wait.
“Where are we anyway?” Kamara asked when they were all gathered in the living room around the fireplace again.
Seated next to him on the sofa, she curled into his side, resting her head on his shoulder. After their shower—and some good-natured teasing—the Valkyrie had offered them fresh clothes, food, and water. Nikolai’s long-sleeve shirt and cargo pants fit well, but he couldn’t say the same for Kamara. She’d had to roll the sleeves up several times, and it had taken a piece of rope threaded through the belt loops to keep her pants from falling off her hips.
He already knew most of the answers to the questions he guessed she’d ask. He also anticipated her response to said answers, which would probably lead to an argument, and he was in no hurry to get there.
“Still in Oklahoma,” Izan answered, lounging back in the armchair across from them. “About forty miles west of where we found you.” He stared at her with a furrowed brow. “We thought you were dead.”
Kamara fought back a giggle when she remembered saying something to Nikolai only twenty minutes ago.
“I think he means the Ravagers,” Nikolai whispered into her head.
Oh, right. Sobering, sat up a little straighter and nodded. She owed them not just her life, but Nikolai’s as well.
“I might have been if you guys hadn’t shown up when you did, so thank you.”
“You’re welcome, but that’s not what I meant.” Pulling a rubber band from the pocket of his cargo pants, he used it to tie his blond curls back from his face. “St. Louis,” he elaborated. “We looked for you, but the pack was dropping us like flies. Only four of us made it out.”
Kamara sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and winced. Damn fangs. “The kids?”
“We got them to Kansas City. They’re okay.”
Her happiness was marred by the knowledge that so many of the group had died, but they’d all known the risks when they signed on, just like she had. She’d have gladly given her life to get those kids to safety, and she knew the others felt the same. Even if no one else knew what they’d done, even if no one knew they existed, they’d died heroes, and she’d never forget them.
“You said four made it to KC.” She searched the room as if expecting someone to pop out from behind the curtains, but of course, she didn’t see anyone. “Who else is here?”
“Fischer and Webber. They’re on patrol. They’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
Maybe it should have, but it didn’t surprise her that the core group—the founders, so to speak—had survived. Jai Webber was built like a damn linebacker, and he was just as lethal with his bare hands as he was with a gun. Kellen Fischer, while just as deadly, was probably the most compassionate of the four, and his baby blue eyes always held a hint of emptiness, no matter how much he smiled.
“Okay, so why the hell are you guys in this godforsaken state in the first place?”
Grim and Izan looked at each other, then to Nikolai, who rubbed a hand over his face and sighed.
“You might as well tell her.”
“Tell me what?” Dropping her feet to the floor, she scooted to the edge of the cushion and glared. “What’s going on?”
“Nikolai says you know a little about the Abraxas slave auctions,” Izan answered when no one else spoke.
Kamara didn’t like where the conversation was headed. “A little. Two of our friends were sent there.” She missed Duncan, and she hoped he’d found what he was looking for in Kansas. As for Abby, well, they’d find a way to get her back, then work on healing her as well. “What about it?”
“Short version?” Folding his arms over his chest, he looked her in the eye, his gaze intense. “We’re taking it down.”
Unflinching, Kamara stood and mirrored his pose. “When?”
“Slow down.” Reaching forward, Nikolai took her wrist and pulled her back down on the sofa beside him. “You aren’t going anywhere.”
“The hell I’m not.” They couldn’t save everyone held by the Abraxas vampires, but if they had a chance to free even a fraction of them, she’d take it. Exacting a little revenge on the coven was just a bonus. “When do we leave?”
Sitting forward in his seat, Grim rested his elbows on his knees and shook his head. “I know why you want to go.” He nodded at Nikolai. “Your mate filled us in on what happened to you at the Abraxas compound, and normally, I’d say you have more of a right than anyone to go along on this.”
“But?” she demanded.
“You’re a liability, Kamara. You’re too emotional.”
“Who says I’m emotional?”
Grim arched an eyebrow at her. “You were held there for months, and you’re telling me you don’t have some strong emotions about the Abraxas coven?”
She understood what he was saying, but it was bullshit. “The only strong emotion I have about that place is a desire to burn it to the ground.” Besides, as the only vampire in the group who wasn’t royal, and therefore, recognizable, they needed her. “So, what’s the plan? You’re just going to storm into this auction blind? You don’t know how many guards will be there, or how many people you’re trying to save. The Coalition will sniff you out a mile away.”
Sighing, Nikolai leaned back on the sofa and shook his head. “I told you,” he said to the other males. “Didn’t I tell you?”
“I’m a vampire,” she pressed when no one else spoke. “I can get in, get the intel, and no one will suspect anything is wrong.”
“No,” Nikolai growled. “You aren’t going within a hundred miles of that place.”
Kamara closed her eyes and counted to ten before looking up at him. Not that it did much good. “Nik, you know I love you, but you’re not going to talk me out of this. So, you can either get on board and help, or you can sit there and be pissed at me.”
“You know the two aren’t mutually exclusive.”
“Fine, then be pissed, but help me.”
Izan shook his head. “I don’t think you’re going to talk her out of this.”
“Nik, you know it’s the right thing to do.” Okay, maybe she was a little emotional, but she could do this. They could do this.
“I do,” he answered, surprising her. “I just don’t want you to do it.”
“You’d go and leave me behind?” Pursing her lips, she glared at him. “That’s really shitty.”
“I’d hogtie you and throw you in a closet if I thought it would do any good.”
“It won’t,” Grim confirmed.
“Not even a little,” Izan added.
Rolling his head on the cushion, Nikolai stared at her and sighed. “You’ll need a backstory and some new clothes.”