Jacks Marcy In Bed with the Vampire Assassin130228 0912

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The Vampire District 2

In Bed with the Vampire Assassin

Anderson Collins was kidnapped by a band of mercenaries hired by

the vampires. They want to send a message for all the men his
friend killed. He never thought he would be rescued by a vampire,

or that he would be an assassin formerly employed by the very
vampires out for revenge.

Noir Fenrir is officially done taking orders. His former employers
tried to kill him, so he will make sure they don't get what they
want. Unfortunately, he didn't get away before he was poisoned.

He needs a healer, and the handsome human he saved knows
where he can find one.

But Anderson is no human. He's a werewolf, and things get
complicated when he mates with Noir. Despite the fact that they

have every reason to distrust each other, they have to rely on
each other in order to survive, and it would be difficult for any

mated couple to not fall in love with those odds.

Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), Paranormal,
Vampires/Werewolves
Length: 35,667 words

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IN BED WITH THE VAMPIRE

ASSASSIN

The Vampire District 2





Marcy Jacks






EVERLASTING CLASSIC

MANLOVE

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Everlasting Classic ManLove


IN BED WITH THE VAMPIRE ASSASSIN
Copyright © 2013 by Marcy Jacks
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62242-585-3

First E-book Publication: March 2013

Cover design by Harris Channing
All art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be
reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including
electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without
express written permission.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance
to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.


PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com

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Letter to Readers


Dear Readers,

If you have purchased this copy of In Bed with the Vampire Assassin
by Marcy Jacks from BookStrand.com or its official distributors,
thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

Regarding E-book Piracy


This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or
group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing
rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this
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The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying
readers high-quality reading entertainment.

This is Marcy Jacks’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect
Ms. Jacks’s right to earn a living from her work.

Amanda Hilton, Publisher

www.SirenPublishing.com

www.BookStrand.com

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IN BED WITH THE VAMPIRE

ASSASSIN

The Vampire District 2

MARCY JACKS

Copyright © 2013





Chapter One


The first thing Anderson was able to process in his panicky brain

was how completely and utterly fucked he was.

He wasn’t at home in his shabby bed, his knee was killing him,

and he was blind.

No, that couldn’t be right. He blinked his eyes several times and

didn’t notice any stinging or real pain that would suggest they’d been
gouged out of his skull, or that he’d been sprayed with something.
Likely it had more to do with the giant, thick, suffocating black bag
he was tied up inside of.

Once he stopped to think about it, it still made him blind since he

could see precisely dick all so long as he remained inside of the thing.

He tried to think back to his last memory, hoping he could piece

together what had happened and where he was.

The last thing he remembered was going for another session with

Will, the vampire healer who used his magic to make Anderson’s
knee not pain him quite so much, and then preparing himself for bed.

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8 Marcy

Jacks

In fact, he’d made it into bed and had dozed off, so he had to have

been taken after falling asleep.

This was good. Thinking about these things was getting his brain

muscles working again and he found his heart rate slowing back to
normal.

Then he heard the sound of footsteps moving against a soft

surface, and he tensed inside of the black bag he was trapped in.

Hopefully whoever it was hadn’t noticed that he was awake. They

wouldn’t hurt him, and they might even decide that a hostage was too
much trouble to bother with and just leave him behind while they
went on their merry way.

Yeah. There was a reason why he wasn’t one of the warriors in his

village. Too much of a coward, and his bad knee would only hinder
any missions he would be sent on, rather than help.

Something nudged him, and because he was such a damned pussy,

he made a shocked sound that might’ve come from a scared cat or
something.

Whoever it was kneeled down in front of the bag, and Anderson

felt a light pressure on top of his head, then then the sound of a metal
zipper being pulled, and then he blinked against the moonlight which
seemed surprisingly bright.

Shit was his first thought, and he stamped down the urge to panic

and was rather pleased with himself for not fainting.

He’d been in the presence of much worse than a vampire, after all.

Hell, he’d been in the presence of a vampire who was downright
chummy. Anderson knew what real evil looked like, and the man in
front of him with the telltale fangs in his mouth didn’t look as
dangerous as a werewolf, or what the people of the village made out
vampire warriors to be.

Then again, the scars on his face didn’t exactly give the guy a

look of innocence or anything like that.

There was a deep, jagged scar that ran down his right eye. It went

through his eyebrow and stopped just at the swell of his cheek. It was

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In Bed with the Vampire Assassin

9

deep and dark pink. Wherever the man had received such a scar, it
had also ruined his eye as well. The scarred eye was a light blue,
whilst the other was a dark brown that was so deep Anderson had
trouble making out the pupil.

He had another scar that was equally jagged and just as ugly that

ran crookedly through his lips, giving him the impression of a
permanent scowl.

If there was ever a man who could be hired to frighten and kill

based solely on his looks, this would be that man.

“What…what do you want?” Anderson asked, after he finally

ceased to be a complete coward and became the master of his voice
once more.

“Are you a healer?” the man asked, his own voice sounding raw

and rough, though Anderson was left with the feeling that it had more
to do with being in pain, rather than another unseen scar over his
throat that had damaged his voice.

“No,” Anderson said, shaking his head. If anything, he needed a

healer as well. He’d need to see both Lilly and Will, especially Will,
after this. His knee felt swollen and was pulsing with pain from
however roughly he’d been treated whilst he’d been drugged and
inside of this bag.

Then again, he wasn’t the one who was half hunched over and

grasping at his side, like the vampire above him was doing now.

“Shit,” the man said, and then turned to hobble away.
“You’re injured,” Anderson said as he quickly stumbled out of the

body bag, but he didn’t approach the other man, just in case he was
still contemplating running a long dagger through him or something.
Only then did the heavy scent of blood catch his nose, and he nearly
puked at the smell.

No one would ever accuse Anderson of being brave, and he was

perfectly content with that.

“Yes, I am,” said the vampire without looking back at him.

Anderson watched as he pulled off his dark black suit that was a

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Marcy Jacks

vampire assassin’s trademark protection for daylight raids. Anderson
had never been close enough to a vampire assassin to really study
what it was that they wore, but now that he was close, he could make
out the heavy buckles that kept the armor in place, and while the
gloves and boots appeared to be leather, the rest of the odd suit with
the pockets all over the place seemed to be made up of thick black
nylon.

That made sense, Anderson supposed. Nylon was supposed to be

heat resistant to a certain degree.

More buckles came loose, and then the sound of Velcro straps.

Because the assassin had his back to Anderson, he couldn’t see where
all of these hidden places were on the suit, but eventually the man
shrugged out of the top half, which now looked more like a jacket. He
set it down on the ground at his feet, and then began to lift off his
white T-shirt.

Anderson was nearly distracted by the sight of his muscular, pale

back in the moonlight, but then his T-shirt went over his head and he
caught sight of the giant splotch of blood that was over the ripped
chest area.

“Jesus,” Anderson gasped.
Again, the assassin seemed dead set on ignoring him. Anderson

tensed a little when the man reached for a compartment on the side of
his leg and pulled out a small blade, but he only used it to cut the T-
shirt some more, and then he tore it into strips, returning the blade to
its original hiding place.

Anderson kept his eyes on that side of the man’s muscular thigh,

knowing that he likely had a whole lot more knives hidden on him
somewhere, but he didn’t let that stop him as he approached
his…savior? He supposed that was what the man was. If it wasn’t for
him, then Anderson would’ve been sold into slavery to the vampires
who would only want to suck the blood out of him or make him do
God only knew what for the rest of his life.

Anderson also couldn’t stand around just watching as he struggled

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In Bed with the Vampire Assassin

11

with dressing the wound on his chest. It made his guilt strings tug in
ways he didn’t like.

“Let me do that.”
The man actually jumped when Anderson came up behind him,

and Anderson’s first response was to jump back before he felt the
cold steel of a knife getting jammed into his throat.

No killing blade came, and the vampire only stared at him in

shock.

It occurred to Anderson that he’d actually managed to sneak up on

the guy without even trying. For that to happen to a trained assassin,
especially by a cripple like Anderson, was unheard of.

He must be in some serious pain to not have heard Anderson

walking right up to him.

“Why are you still here? You need to run back to your village.”
“I don’t even know where I am,” Anderson admitted, looking up

and around, feeling increasingly uneasy at the thought of just how
true his words were. He didn’t know how long he’d been in that body
bag, and he didn’t recognize these trees. In fact, it felt colder right
now than it did when he’d fallen asleep.

Then a thought came to him that made his blood run cold. “What

day is it?”

“Saturday,” the vampire answered.
Anderson wanted to be sick. “I’ve been in that bag for two days,”

he said. It certainly explained why he needed to use the bushes so
badly, and was starving beyond all reason.

“Is that so?” the vampire asked, then he cursed. “You will not

simply be able to walk back then.”

No, he wouldn’t, and Anderson was a bastard because he

suddenly remembered that this man was in a whole lot of pain and
currently struggling to tie his own bandages.

“Let me help with that. I think you saved my life so it’s the least I

can do,” he said, reaching out with shaking fingers and taking the
strips of the torn-up T-shirt from the assassin’s hands. He straightened

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Marcy Jacks

out the cotton and began wrapping them in what seemed like the
appropriate fashion. He made sure to keep the knots he made tight
enough that they hopefully wouldn’t come loose, but also not so tight
that it would pain him or further cut off the man’s blood circulation.
He remembered how much Will had complained about the pain of
having blood flow cut off for too long. Apparently that was a big
concern for vampires.

“Thought you said you weren’t a healer?” the man asked, still

looking pale, but at least he wasn’t bleeding all over the place.

“I’m not, but I know how to put on some bandages well enough. I

guess,” he added.

The man flexed a little, then winced. “They should do fine until I

can heal and feed.”

That made sense. A vampire’s healing abilities only worked as

well as how much blood they had in them.

“What’s your name?” Anderson asked. “In my head I keep calling

you the assassin, or the vampire. It feels weird doing that even in my
head.”

The man looked at him and lifted the brow that was above his

good eye. “Noir,” he said after a time. “Formerly of the Fenrir house
of vampires.”

That sounded familiar. Anderson couldn’t remember where he’d

heard it before, though.

“My name is Anderson.” He hesitated on telling him his last

name, or the village he was from, but Noir had told him his name and
where he was from, so Anderson thought that maybe he could at least
tell the man his last name. “Anderson Collins. What happened to the
people who, uh…” Anderson looked around, noting that the smell of
blood was still in the air, and he didn’t know where it was coming
from.

“The people who took you?” Noir asked.
Anderson nodded, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.

Clearly there had been a fight, and obviously Noir had won that

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In Bed with the Vampire Assassin

13

battle, otherwise they both wouldn’t be standing here now.

It either meant there weren’t very many vampire slavers guarding

Anderson at all, or Noir was a very skilled assassin.

Noir pointed past some heavy shrubs. “Some are over there.” He

then pointed to some old pines with drooping tree branches. “Others
are over there. The smell of blood will attract predators, and
eventually the vampires who hired them, but I thought it best to hide
the bodies.”

Anderson swallowed hard, and thought that maybe he could wait a

little while longer before going to use the bushes.

“Wait, you said the vampires who hired them? They weren’t

vampires?”

“No. They were humans working for the vampires.”
Anderson felt like the ground was trying to swallow him, and he

stepped away from Noir, shaking his head. “No. Humans wouldn’t
work with you.”

“They have a history of betraying their own. Why wouldn’t

humans from another village attempt something like this?”

Anderson shook his head again, denial the only weapon he had to

keep himself sane while Noir spouted these lies.

Vampires were the enemy. They were the ones in control of the

Western district, and they hunted and enslaved humans to be used as
blood slaves, whores, or servants. It had been this way for hundreds of
years after the third great war, and now this vampire here would try to
have Anderson believe that humans would steal other humans.

Any attraction Anderson might have felt for his rescuer vanished

as he fought the urge to be sick.

“What for? What would they have to gain?”
Noir shrugged. “Safety from vampire slavers? Perhaps the chance

to be transformed into vampires themselves? Though they are fools if
they believe something like that would keep them from the slave pits.
Vampires do still enslave their own. The more wealth and power a
vampire has, the more they are willing to impose that on others,

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Marcy Jacks

regardless of their race.”

Anderson still couldn’t fully believe it, but the smell of blood was

thick and heavy, proving that there had been someone here other than
Noir himself to do this.

“Show them to me. I want to see their teeth.”
“You wish to see for yourself that they are not vampires?”
Anderson nodded.
Noir shrugged, and then started walking toward the bushy shrubs

he’d pointed Anderson toward before.

Anderson followed, keeping his distance as much as possible. He

didn’t know why. It wasn’t like he would have the strength or energy
to outrun the man or fight him off, even with Noir’s injuries, should
the vampire really wish him harm.

Noir put his hand in the shrubs and pushed some of the branches

out of the way, and that was when Anderson saw the bodies.

They were bleeding from their wounds, but they weren’t hacked

to bits like Anderson feared they would be.

No, aside from the thin slits in their throats, there was hardly a

wound on any of them, and Anderson had no doubt that the same
could also be said for the dead men who were under the tree just
across the clearing. Noir wouldn’t be a proper vampire assassin if he
didn’t know how to kill his enemies with minimal contact and fuss,
after all.

There were at least five men in this pile. Anderson didn’t want to

know how many were in the other. Someone must have finally heard
that Noir was coming because Anderson doubted he’d given himself
that injury.

They were definitely human. More than one man had his mouth

open, as well as his eyes, in death, and nowhere could Anderson see
any fangs. Vampires didn’t work with humans either as far as he
knew, so that meant that the lot of them were human.

Noir was telling the truth.
“Why?”

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In Bed with the Vampire Assassin

15

“Why?” Noir repeated, removing his hand and letting the shrubs

fall back into place.

“Why save me? You’re a vampire, so why would you stop them

from doing their job?” Anderson looked at him, searching for
something he could understand.

Until recently, his greatest fears were the werewolves from the

Eastern District, then he came here, thinking he’d escaped the worst
of the worst.

Now he wasn’t so sure. At least the werewolves were predictable.

Vampires were proving to be more and more of an enigma.

“I no longer serve the Fenrir house. I returned to them a week ago

with news that the men I had worked with had all been killed in battle.
They were displeased.”

“If that was all they were then you should consider yourself lucky.

If you’d been a human or a slave they might’ve killed you. It’s
amazing you’re even alive,” Anderson said.

Noir glared at him.
“Yes, well, it did not occur to me at the time that they had a

handful of backup guards and kidnappers amongst the humans either.
Especially the free humans. Like you, I had thought that at least they
would not wish to work for vampires willingly.”

“So you just decided to help out of the goodness of your heart?”

Anderson asked, not believing that for a second, and then something
else clicked in his head. “Why would they even take me? I’m nothing.
I can’t even take care of the dogs, and on my good days I can only
feed the animals on the farm. The little animals, too.”

“Because of your knee?”
Anderson hadn’t thought it was that obvious. Maybe he’d walked

with a bit of a limp and a master assassin would have noticed it.
“Yeah,” he admitted, his face heating up.

Noir nodded. “You were to simply be a message from the

vampires to your village. A warning. Others would have come, and
likely they still will, but the Fenrir house is still expecting a prisoner

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of some kind to arrive soon.”

Anderson shivered at the calm and collected way that husky voice

said those awful words. He wondered if Noir was purposely talking
like this to scare him.

“What would they have done to me?” he asked.
Noir shrugged. “I don’t know. They might’ve kept you as a blood

slave. They might’ve cut off some of your fingers, or maybe even a
larger appendage. Maybe they would have sold you a few times to
earn back the money they lost when they paid for their assassins.”

The fact that he’d mentioned that Anderson could have been sold

more than once told him just what the vampires would have been
selling him as.

Vampires weren’t just into the blood trade. Human trafficking was

also a big factor in their wealth. There were always the vampires
overseas who wanted nice, healthy humans to drink from and fuck.

How close he’d come to never seeing the people of his village

again suddenly hit him hard, and despite how Noir seemed to care
nothing at all for all of this, regardless of his help, Anderson found
himself coming to stand closer to the man, feeling more protected the
nearer he stood.

“I will take you back to your village. Where are you from?” Noir

asked.

He really shouldn’t tell him. This could be a trap. Something

designed for Anderson to lead a vampire straight into his village.

Then again, clearly the men he killed had already known where it

was, and if Noir was lying and still working for a nest of vampires
who wanted some fresh humans in their cellars, then he could have
questioned the men before killing them. Or even taken them.

He hadn’t. He hadn’t taken them because he was the only one

there, and one man, vampire or not, did not have the power to force
that many humans to follow him.

So Anderson told him where he was from and the village name

just in case he’d heard of it.

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In Bed with the Vampire Assassin

17

It was a long shot, but surprisingly, Noir knew the place.
“The West Village? The place where Hawke lives?”
Anderson was shocked that the man had known about it, but even

more so that he knew Hawke.

Hawke didn’t run the village. His father did while he went out

hunting and killing vampires with that unnatural stamina he had.

Anderson nodded. “Then, it’s safe for you to take me back?”
Noir made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a

cynical snort. “I would hardly say that. I respect Hawke as a warrior,
though. He has honor and is very brave. I assume he is still taking
care of Will?”

Suddenly, Anderson knew why Noir’s name tickled the nerves of

a forgotten memory in his brain. “You were part of the group that
attacked my village,” he said, stepping away.

“Yes, and all of my men were killed in the attack,” Noir said,

scowling at him. “We thought it was a rescue mission, but Will made
it clear to me that he wished to stay, and I did not want to enslave him
to the family I worked for.”

Anderson stopped moving backward, but he didn’t stop staring at

Noir.

“So, you’re a good vampire then, right? If you know Hawke and

you both have an understanding. Kind of.”

“I’m as good as I will ever be, human,” Noir said, and suddenly

he was looking at Anderson with a whole lot of interest. “I will be
good enough to tell you that I am sorry for what I am about to do to
you, since I know humans tend to not like this being forced on them.”

Anderson didn’t get the chance to run or scream before he was

caught up in Noir’s arms. The man had a grip like a vise on his
shoulder and the back of his head, his fingers gripping Anderson’s
hair so tightly he thought the vampire was trying to pull it out.

Then he was frozen in fear as he looked up into those mismatched

eyes, but there was no malice there, only a sort of worrisome regret.

His voice was soft and apologetic. Anderson had heard that some

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Marcy Jacks

vampires had the power of hypnosis, and until now he’d always
assumed that to be an old wives’ tale. He was sure getting sucked into
those eyes now, and the warmth of Noir’s breath on his face, and his
mouth so close, like they were about to kiss, made Anderson hold
completely still.

“I need the strength to heal if I am to take you home, and I need to

replenish the blood I lost as well.”

Anderson gasped as he felt Noir’s lips, surprisingly soft and pliant

despite the scar, press an openmouthed kiss to the side of his neck,
and then he grunted with the pain of the bite.

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In Bed with the Vampire Assassin

19





Chapter Two


Noir almost allowed himself to be caught up in the sight of those

blue eyes, so close and staring at him with such fear and wonder. The
man’s shaggy blond hair felt silky to the touch, even though he had
spent two days drugged inside one of the body bags that slavers and
other kidnappers were so fond of using on their victims.

He’d always been content with the fear that humans, slaves, and

other vampires regarded him with. Usually that was a product of his
scars and many overactive imaginations. People wondered what had
happened to him to make his face so hideously ugly, and there was
even a rumor going around, started by the Devil only knew who, that
he’d given himself the scars in an act of depraved lunacy and
hysterics, brought on by having the tainted blood of a half human and
half vampire.

He’d allowed that rumor to fester, and when anyone on his team

had the balls to ask, he’d only glared or grumbled at them until they
moved on, which only fed into the rumor.

This human he held, Anderson, was either a naive idiot or a

trusting fool.

The descriptions that Noir had just thought of to describe him

nearly made him laugh as he sucked back on the man’s blood through
the holes in his fangs, because, no matter what, it meant that he was
either a fool or an idiot.

He felt Anderson’s body go limp in his arms, and soon Noir was

using most of his strength to keep the man upright. He pulled his
fangs from the punctures he’d made when that happened. Other
vampires liked to feed until the heart began to slow. Noir had also

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Marcy Jacks

tasted blood when death was so close to his feeder, but he hadn’t done
that in ages, and he would not do it now.

It was cruel, nearly torture. Noir knew because he’d also been fed

from by other vampires who were curious about what his blood tasted
like, being half human and all. It had made his head spin and brought
the worst sort of nausea to his stomach. The real kick to the balls on
top of the insult of being made into a feeder was the way the vampire
feeding from him didn’t seem to care. In fact they had blamed Noir
when their carefully applied lipstick had been smeared on his neck,
suits rumpled, or whatever else the rich complained about.

Noir also needed to leave Anderson with enough strength to walk

back to his camp. Noir had no plans to carry him the whole way, and
he wasn’t entirely ready to watch those deep blue eyes vanish just yet.

He licked away the building drops of blood at the man’s neck,

sorry to have to pull away when he’d enjoyed the taste, but he could
already feel his wounds stitching back together, and suddenly he had
enough energy inside of him that he felt he could take on another
round of slavers singlehandedly, and maybe run ten miles just for the
fun of it.

Drinking blood tended to have that effect on a man. The blood,

however, did not dispel the sickness that was growing inside of him.
It was still there, festering within, and he would become worse soon
enough, but for now, he was fine.

The energy also brought on another side effect, and he quickly

released the man in his arms before Anderson would notice what was
rising between Noir’s legs, and panic.

Noir was not a rapist either.
Anderson did not notice, however. He swayed a bit on shaking

legs that made Noir worry for his equilibrium, but otherwise he stayed
on his feet.

“What―what was—” He blinked, and then his blue eyes became

less clouded and much more angry. “You fucking bastard! You bit
me!”

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In Bed with the Vampire Assassin

21

“How else did you expect me to have the strength to take you

back?” Noir asked. “And keep your voice down. There is still the
chance that we will be overheard. Perhaps I missed one of the men
who took you and they are still lurking nearby.”

Anderson either didn’t hear him for all the raging he was doing, or

he didn’t buy it for a minute. “Why didn’t you take your blood from
them? There’s more than enough of it!”

“Drinking blood from a dead victim is unhealthy. I would have

made myself sick.”

“I don’t care. Don’t you ever do that again without my

permission.”

Noir nodded. “Agreed.” He turned and walked away, listening to

Anderson huff and grumble to himself as the man struggled to follow
his long paces.

Without his permission, Anderson had said, implying that he

would be willing to become Noir’s feeder so long as Noir asked. He
really was an idiot.

Noir reached his hand out to the frightened and angry man. He

suddenly had the mental image of himself attempting to lure a
frightened rabbit closer to his grasp after he’d already attempted to eat
it.

Not surprisingly, considering the man’s pitiful self-preservation

instinct, he came.

“Come, I will take you back to your village.”
Anderson’s eyes widened. “We’re walking the whole way?”
“Your village is in the middle of nowhere with the only roads

accessing it being hidden and unpaved. I also do not have a car or any
off-road vehicle that would take us there silently.”

Considering some of the technology Noir had used in his

missions, there was always the glaring reminder that many things had
not improved in the last several hundred years after the third great war
that put the humans on their knees and allowed the paranormals to
rise to power. Some things had even taken a step backward.

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Quick and easy access to transportation was one of them.
Anderson sighed, resigned to his fate of travelling with a hated

vampire. Noir reminded himself that this was a human, and it was
natural that Noir would remain untrustworthy, especially after the
snack he’d enjoyed.

“What if we get back and the entire village is gone?” Anderson

asked. “There was talk of moving the people, of merging with another
village.”

“You worry that your friends might leave you behind?” Noir

didn’t even expect to get all the way to the village. Surely there would
at least be some effort made to rescue one of their own, and if Hawke
was anything like Noir thought him to be, then he should be the one
leading that mission.

“I’m only one man. I’m sure some of the people there wouldn’t

want to leave, knowing I was gone, but the village leader and the men
he works with to keep the people safe have other lives they need to
consider.”

“Then I shall make sure to get you back before that happens.”
“And if you can’t?”
“I can carry you most of the way.”
“Not during the day, you can’t.”
The man had him there, but Noir was becoming too uneasy having

this conversation mere feet away from the bodies of the mercenaries
he’d killed. “Walk and speak at the same time. As for the daylight
hours, I suppose I would be relying on you for protection then. I have
my suit, but even I will need to sleep, and so will you.”

Anderson nodded, hobbling along as Noir walked.
Noir would have to place his trust in this man to not simply kill

him while he was unconscious, but if Noir wanted to get to that
village and warn both Hawke and Will that more attacks would be on
the way, then he had no choice.

“Does that pain you?” Noir asked, looking down briefly at the

way the man limped, and then gazing up into his blue eyes once more.

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23

“A little, which means it’s probably going to rain soon.”
Noir nearly stopped when he heard that. “What?”
“My knee. It swells out and starts to hurt like you wouldn’t

believe when rain is coming. Something in the air.”

Rain, and the man was about to have a leg that pained him to the

point where he might not be able to travel.

“Any other talents that I should know about?”
Anderson put a finger to his chin, and Noir wanted to punch him

for being cute about it when he brightened and replied, “I can juggle,
too.”

He had a sense of humor, too. Well, the man would need it if they

were to survive the journey back. “Wonderful.”

* * * *


Noir had tried to pick up the other man and run with him, keeping

to the trees to avoid any traps that may have been placed on the
ground, but jumping so high with roughly an extra two hundred
pounds in his arms was by and large not the best of ideas he’d ever
had.

Noir was quickly becoming tired, but as was his custom, he

continued on, pushing himself past the immediate limits his body
gave him. They ran this way for two hours straight, and the entire
time Noir was at least able to take his mind away from his own
dwindling strength by admiring the warm body in his arms.

It had seemed like an age since he’d had a man so close to him,

and Anderson was nicely built and handsome, if a bit of a fool.

“Stop! Stop!” Anderson was shaking his shoulder and grabbing at

his uniform in an effort to get attention.

Noir was glad for the excuse to finally stop running and jumping

through the heavy tree branches, but his heart raced as he searched for
the source of whatever it was that had caught the human’s eye and
made him panic.

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Marcy Jacks

Being only half a vampire meant that some of his abilities worked

at only half strength. His night vision was one of them, though that
could be a product of the injury to his right eye.

Either way, he did not see or hear anyone near them or

approaching, and if he sensed no one nearby, then there was no way
this human could have spotted a threat while Noir was running for
their lives with him in his arms.

“What is it?” he demanded, and he looked down at the man in his

arms, and for the first time was aware of the pain on his face.

His eyes were squeezed tightly shut and his lips were pressed

together as if suppressing painful moans. Now that he was no longer
grasping at Noir’s shoulders in a desperate attempt to make him stop,
he was clutching at his knee. The one that was apparently bad and
swelling as a storm that Noir couldn’t even smell in the air
approached.

“Your leg pains you?” he asked.
Anderson released a pained breath, and then another as he

struggled for control. “It’s not just that. Fuck. It’s all this running and
jumping. It’s jostling my knee and it feels like someone’s hitting it
with a hammer.” Anderson hissed as he fought to master his pain, and
abruptly failed.

Noir couldn’t believe it. “Why didn’t you tell me you were in

pain?” he asked, slowing his steps and finding a particularly large tree
branch for them to rest on. He gently placed Anderson down on it,
allowing him to lean his back against the tree itself while Noir rolled
up his pant leg to have a look.

“Didn’t think it was a good idea to stop. It’ll go away in a few

minutes and we can start running again.”

With the way he was speaking, as though simply sitting there was

agony, Noir doubted it would be only a matter of minutes before the
man’s pain simmered down enough that they could continue on.

“Looks like we’re stopping here for the night,” Noir said.
“No! I can keep going!” Anderson insisted, and his eyes grew

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25

wide at the suggestion of stopping, like he was afraid of spending the
night with a vampire.

Don’t be a prick, he told himself. Everything is scaring him. Not

just you.

“To be honest, I need the rest as well. Your blood, while

delicious, did not heal me as well as I would have liked.” Noir
stretched out his shoulders and felt a pop that was almost as painful as
it was satisfying. “We will rest here for a few hours, then you and I
will have to walk at ground level if we are to keep your leg from
acting up again. You’re sure the swelling will go down?”

It certainly looked like a nasty bit of work. The joint wasn’t

grotesquely swollen or anything like that, but there was a deep scar
that ran horizontally across the middle of the knee, and it almost gave
the limb a twisted sort of appearance. There was some swelling,
however, and Noir felt a pang of guilt that he had been the cause for
this pain.

“It’ll go down, but it’ll get bad again when it starts to rain. What

are you doing?” Anderson stiffened and got that frightened-rabbit
look in his eyes once more when Noir reached inside a pocket on his
thigh. The man acted as though Noir was about to pull out a knife and
put him out of his misery.

He pulled out a gel pack instead and turned the dial on the bag

that would make it cold. The building frost was instant, and he placed
the pack on Anderson’s knee.

The man gasped and jerked at the sudden cold, and then he sighed

and settled back against the tree.

“What…did you get that from a mage?”
It was typical for a human from a poor village to assume that most

technologies, even the little things they did not come across every
day, came from the mages. The mages were the only ones who sold
medicine to the other districts, usually without the permission of the
creatures ruling the lands, but those same rulers hardly seemed to care
when they were in need of something.

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Marcy Jacks

“No, and they’re not usually given to assassins either since we’re

expected to either ignore any pain we feel, or not get injured at all. I
stole it from a medicine cabinet not too long ago, which is why you
don’t recognize it. I imagine you and your entire village would’ve
been able to use these if all my men had been carrying them,” Noir
said, referring to the attack of vampire assassins that had been sent to
take William Delany back to his proper home, and even take a few
humans for their blood.

Everyone but Noir had died because they had all been fools, more

interested in picking fights with the humans instead of relying on
stealth and sticking to the real mission at hand.

“Yeah,” Anderson said. “All we found on them were a whole lot

of knives, and even some poisoned darts.”

The mention of poisoned darts made Noir’s muscles tense. “No

one tested them on anything did they?”

Anderson gave him an odd look. “No, of course not. Why would

we test out poison darts? What would we even test them on? I
imagine they would all either make a person unconscious, or poison
anyone who was scratched with one so they would die a long and
drawn-out, painful death.”

“Long and drawn-out deaths are meant to be punishment. The

assassins would have been carrying poisons that would kill almost
instantly, but they would paralyze first to keep the victim from calling
out.”

“See? That’s why we weren’t willing to play games figuring out

what each dart did. No one wanted to even hunt with them in case it
would poison the food they caught and kill anyone who ate it.”

Smart. That was very smart. Perhaps Noir had been thinking too

little of the people of that village, even if he still respected Hawke for
his honor and abilities.

“How does your leg feel?”
“Better,” Anderson said. He must have forgotten that Noir was

still holding the pack in place because of the numbing effect, but

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27

when he reached out to adjust it on his leg, their hands brushed.

Noir pulled away in shock at the touch. He didn’t know why, but

he did. Anderson did as well, jostling the pack and it slid off of his
knee.

Noir’s hand struck out and snatched the cold pack in the air before

it could fall to the ground, where danger possibly lurked.

“Nice reflexes,” Anderson said, though he didn’t sound impressed

so much as he sounded like he was having trouble with his throat.

“Thank you,” Noir said, and then turned the dial one more time so

that the little arrow pointed to the red option, and once again, the
pack’s change was instant as it became steaming hot.

Anderson stiffened again when it touched his knee, but then he

relaxed and sighed.

“I assume you will know how to work the dial without breaking

it?” Noir asked.

Anderson glared at him. “I didn’t grow up around a lot of

technology but I’m not a caveman. I can work buttons and dials and
figure out basic instructions.”

“Good. I will be back.”
“Where are you going?” Anderson asked, that fear returning to his

voice and body, and he looked ready to jump up and physically
restrain Noir to keep him from leaving.

“To hunt for more blood. There might be birds and rats around

who would be willing to part with it, unless you would be so kind as
to offer your vein?”

Noir had only meant it to be, partially, a joke. He’d already fed

from Anderson not too many hours ago. While he hadn’t exactly
taken a lot, he wouldn’t be good for drinking from for another few
days at least.

Still, the way his eyes widened as he silently shook his head made

Noir sigh on the inside. Right. He should have known better. He hated
the taste of rat and squirrel blood.

“I will return shortly,” he said, and did his best to not be moved

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Marcy Jacks

by the small voice that followed behind him as he leaped down from
the tree branch.

“Be careful.”

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In Bed with the Vampire Assassin

29





Chapter Three


Anderson only felt like he’d closed his eyes for maybe a minute

before he opened them again to find sunlight streaming brightly into
his eyes. He couldn’t believe he’d fallen asleep inside of a tree and
hadn’t fallen out of it.

He tried to sit up, but then found something tugging him back

down. Because he was such a coward, his heart slammed at the
sudden thought of Noir grabbing him and holding him down to keep
him from…well, he didn’t know what since they’d both already
established that he wasn’t going anywhere without Noir’s help,

He quickly realized that it wasn’t an arm that was wrapped around

his waist, but a thin line of rope that was tied off to the tree and
wrapped only a little loosely around his legs.

Noir had come back and tied him down to keep him from falling.

Anderson was stupidly pleased by the thought that the man hadn’t left
him up here to die by rolling over in his sleep.

The knots were easy enough for him to access and weren’t

particularly hard for him to undo, and he was smiling at his own
stupidity as he reached to untie himself.

He stopped at the sound of feet beneath him. There were footsteps

and voices, none of which belonged to anyone Anderson knew.

“You sure the trail leads down here? That last broken twig you

found didn’t exactly look like a pointing arrow.”

“He’s keeping to the trees. Even jumping through the heavy

branches can leave behind a trail,” said the other man.

Anderson risked peeking over the side of the thick tree branch he

was still lying on, and then abruptly pulled back at the sight of four

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Marcy Jacks

men beneath him.

They were wearing the classic assassin’s uniform, but none of

them were wearing the face masks. During the daylight that could
only mean that these weren’t vampires out to uphold the law of their
rich and powerful nobility.

More humans selling themselves out to work for the vampires.

Noir hadn’t been lying. This was worse than Anderson had thought,
and he was stuck up here, hoping against hope that none of the men
bothered to look up and take note of the ropes that were wrapped
around the tree branch he was on. They would know for sure that
wasn’t natural, and they would also know he was there.

He worked his hardest to keep his breathing as light as possible,

despite his hammering heart, and he kept as still as he could to keep
the men beneath him from hearing him.

A trail. Anderson couldn’t believe that Noir, a trained vampire

assassin, had left behind a trail while running through the trees.
Hawke had once said it was possible. Enough fallen leaves and
broken twigs would still be enough for even a novice tracker to chase
him down if he wasn’t careful.

Either Noir wasn’t as skilled as Anderson previously thought him

to be, or he was trying to get them caught on purpose.

The men just would not move on, and Anderson began sweating

in the heat. Why wouldn’t they leave? Did they know he was up here?
Did they suspect? Where the hell was Noir? Sleeping in another tree?

The worst part of it came when his leg began to swell and pulse

again from the lack of movement for so long. That usually happened
after he’d just woken up most mornings. He always needed a minute
to stretch out his knee, let it pop in all the right places, and then
massage it a little just to get everything in working order.

Anderson held still for as long as he was able to, then he bit his

lips together when the pain and throbbing started to get to him, and
then he could take no more and reached down to rub against the
hurting joint before he was forced to go into the whole breathing thing

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31

that usually helped to calm down his nerves.

That would be way too loud and the men beneath him would

definitely hear something like that.

He rubbed his knee and his upper thigh, trying to encourage blood

flow while convincing the pain to quietly go away, but because
everything was so quiet, any sound he made was magnified by a
hundred, and when his knee popped, he swore the hounds from the
werewolf district could have heard it.

“Did you hear that?” One of the men asked.
Anderson heard the sound of metal weapons being put in the

capable hands of their owners. He could picture in his mind the men
all looking up at the tree branches with renewed interest as they
searched for whatever it was that had made that sound.

“Could it have been a woodpecker or something?”
“What did I say about coincidences?” asked the gruff voice that

was apparently the leader.

“Don’t trust them,” answered the other man.
Great. A bunch of professionals were beneath him.
“What’s that? Is that rope?”
Anderson was scared to the point of immobility. Memories

flashed in front of his mind that he couldn’t push away. Hiding, not
quite like this, but still hiding from predators, and then the things they
had done to him when they’d found him…

Where the hell was Noir? There was no way a band of

mercenaries sniffing around on the ground level didn’t wake him up
from wherever it was he’d gone.

He could hear them gathering beneath him. Anderson had finally

managed to snap himself out of his memories long enough to put his
hands back on the knots and try to get them loose. His hands were
sweating and shaking, however, and he was having trouble.

“Those ropes are moving. Someone’s up there,” one of the men

said.

Another voice from farther to the right sounded off. Apparently

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Marcy Jacks

one of the four men had gone off to scout around. “I see him. There’s
someone hiding in there.”

“You up there! Get down from the tree now.”
Anderson had no intention of doing that. Not willingly at least. He

finally managed to get the ropes off of himself and they fell away to
the ground. He shakily got to his feet, favoring his leg, which was
killing him with all the stiffness he felt in it.

“He’s on the move!”
“I said get down from there now!” called the leader.
Anderson only noticed the little red dot on his body when it

traveled to his hand. He gasped and looked down at himself, seeing
another.

Lasers from a gun? Or from something that would shoot out more

poisonous darts and make him pass out?

Either one wasn’t a good option. The first would kill him, and the

second would only make him pass out, in which case he would fall to
his death anyway.

Might not be so bad, though, he thought to himself. At least this

way he would die instead of being taken away to be tortured and bled
like a pig.

He didn’t want to die, however. He wanted to live. “Please.”
A scream sounded beneath him, and Anderson looked down. With

the head rush of adrenaline and fear that was still running through
him, he nearly fell out of the tree at the sight of the neck of one of the
mercs spurting like a broken water fountain.

The man was clutching at his throat in an attempt the stop the flow

of blood, but he was already falling to his knees as he couldn’t keep
his own life fluids inside.

One of the other men ran to him and tried to help by grabbing him

around the throat, but Anderson suspected the man was only choking
him to death now rather than aiding him.

“Who the fucking hell was that?” screamed the man in charge of

the crew that was swiftly going south. He pointed his very big and

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In Bed with the Vampire Assassin

33

very dangerous gun at Anderson when the culprit didn’t reveal
himself. “I swear to Christ I’ll blow his fucking head off if you don’t
get out here. Now!”

Anderson clutched the tree tightly like it was his lifeline. Staring

down the barrel of a gun whilst he was twenty feet up in a tree was
just as terrifying as if the gun was right in his face, he realized. Not a
good feeling.

“You have until the count of three!” the man screamed.
“Noir,” Anderson said, his voice weak and barely a whisper as he

called to the vampire to save him.

“One!”
The leader holding the giant killing machine didn’t even get to

two before his eyes glazed over and he dropped to his knees, much
the same way the other man had done.

“Sir!”
There were only two able-bodied men left now to deal with them.

The first, the one who had been trying to save the man with the
bleeding neck, or speed along the process of death to put him out of
his misery, Anderson couldn’t be sure, jumped to his feet and ran in
the opposite direction as everything here.

“Hey!” yelled his only surviving friend. Anderson watched him

give fearful chase, clearly wanting to get away from this before he,
too, fell over and died. He half expected Noir to materialize out of
thin air and chop their heads off or something in a show of his
masterful killing powers.

Nothing happened. They vanished into the trees and the only clue

that they’d ever been there was the smell of the bodies beneath them.

“Hey.”
“Jesus Christ!” Anderson yelled, clutching the tree tighter as he

nearly fell out of it. If his heart kept this up then he was going to have
a heart attack long before he made it back to the village.

Noir put his hand on Anderson’s shoulder, as though he was

trying to calm him. “Are you all right?”

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Marcy Jacks

“Not really,” Anderson admitted, then swallowed hard. “You let

them go?”

He was wearing his mask again, the one with the creepy dark

goggles that protected his face and neck from the morning sun, so the
only thing Anderson had to work with as far as what the man was
thinking was his body language and the sound of his voice.

“I don’t have the energy to chase them.”
He sounded tired, and once Anderson got his heart pumping back

at a normal pace, stopped being so selfish and just looked at the man,
he noticed the way he was hunched over, as well as the quick rise and
fall of his chest as he breathed heavily.

“Are you okay?” Anderson asked.
“Not really,” Noir replied, mimicking Anderson’s earlier

response.

Anderson looked down below again. He knew he wasn’t really

that high in the air, but there was no way he’d be able to jump down
without hurting himself, but they couldn’t stay in this tree if Anderson
was going to look over the other man, and they had to keep moving.
Noir had let two men live, something that wasn’t entirely normal,
even for a former assassin, as far as he knew.

“I really hate to ask you this, but do you think you can get us both

down?”

Noir didn’t reply. He just put his strong hands around Anderson’s

waist. He was shorter than the other man, but not by much, and the
build on the both of them was nearly the same. That was probably
why he was always so shocked whenever Noir picked him up as
easily as though he was a small child or something.

Anderson had been carried by him before, however, and while the

thrill he felt in his bones was the same at the touch and strength of the
man, he was still able to recognize that something wasn’t exactly
right. Yesterday, Noir had carried him like Anderson’s added weight
was nothing to him. Today, in his arms as Noir struggled to get them
both down from the tree, Anderson noted, with a healthy dose of

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35

worry about what would happen to them both if they just fell from the
height they were at now, that Noir was trembling. Anderson’s weight
was registering to him.

He breathed a heavy sigh when they were on the ground, and he

promptly ignored the dead bodies surrounding them as Noir leaned
against the tree, clearly tired and out of breath.

“Is it blood? You need to drink more?” Anderson asked.
“I suppose that would help to some degree, but it wouldn’t cure

what ails me,” Noir said.

Anderson had no idea what the man was talking about and wasn’t

in the mood to ask. He just wanted to get Noir’s mask off so he could
have a look at his face.

“Come with me. The shade is better over there,” Anderson said,

and he promptly took Noir by the hand and started leading him over
to a weeping willow.

It wasn’t a particularly tall tree, meaning it was young, but its long

shoots ran all the way to the ground, and it was thick with leaves and
flora. It would keep them well hidden, for a time, and protected from
the sun well enough that Noir could take off his mask.

Noir didn’t so much as try to hold back, which only made

Anderson even more worried for whatever condition he was suffering
from.

They moved over to the base of the tree, and Anderson promptly

had Noir sit down and lean his back against it. The small noise of pain
that came from the other man’s mouth didn’t go unnoticed by him
either.

“If I take your mask off, you won’t burn, right? This is enough

shade?” Now that he was beneath the protective reach of the tree’s
leaves, he wasn’t so sure.

“It will be hot, but I am only a half vampire. I won’t catch fire.”
Well, that was good.
Anderson reached out, hesitated, and then took hold of Noir’s

mask at the bottom of his neck and gently peeled it off.

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Marcy Jacks

Noir’s face was pale. Even for a vampire, he looked sick. There

was sweat building along his face and neck, and his eyes were dilated.

“Do I look that bad?”
Anderson hadn’t realized he’d been making a face. He cleared his

throat and tried to be professional about this. “What happened?
You’re not just tired. You’re sick.”

Noir smiled at him, his lips bloodless and pale. “Poisoned darts.”
“What?”
“You asked me about them last night. It’s not uncommon for a

master to use them on a servant if he disappoints. I returned from my
mission alive, but without Will, or any information the Fenrir nest of
vampires would find useful.”

“So they poisoned you?” Anderson asked, his anger boiling inside

of him at the thought of anyone doing something that horrible to one
of their own.

“They wanted to kill me, but I ran. Someone got a lucky shot at

me. The empty dart is in the pocket on my left thigh.”

“You say it so calmly. Those fucking bastards tried to kill you!

Why aren’t you angry about this?”

Noir shrugged, as though he wasn’t feeling up to being angry at

all, or anything now that he was down. “It was my own foolishness
that brought me here. I thought if I returned, the sole survivor of my
team, then that alone would have been enough to prove my worth to
the assassins. I thought my talent for survival would be considered
valuable, but the master of the house was angry. He lost many
valuable assassins, his house is now vulnerable, and I pretended
ignorance when it came to the location of the village.”

So he didn’t tell the vampires where the village was. Anderson

was pleased with that and felt admiration swelling inside of him for
the man. “How did you get away with that?”

“I didn’t, as you can see.”
Anderson felt stupid, and he ducked his head to hide the blush that

was no doubt building on his face. “Oh, right.”

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37

Noir inhaled deeply through his nose, and he reached his hand up

for Anderson’s neck. “You should not do that. You smell so sweet.”

With stunning clarity, Anderson knew what he had to do to get

Noir back on his feet, and unlike before, he wasn’t so put off by the
idea.

“Did you even manage to catch anything to drink from last

night?”

Noir smiled humorlessly at him. “No. I gave up the chase when I

realized I was using more energy than I would have been saving by
catching whatever small creature I could find.”

Anderson nodded, and then he grabbed the hem of his shirt and

lifted it over his head, momentarily blinded by the cotton until he got
it off, and then saw the shocked expression on Noir’s face.

Even though he was clearly not well, and he had the scars on his

lips and over his eye, he was actually very handsome.

“You should not do that unless you want me to act. I can’t resist if

you tease me like this.”

Anderson curled his fingers around the back of Noir’s neck. There

was some sweat there as well as the small soft hairs that curled from
beneath his hairline, but otherwise Anderson was too caught up in the
fact that this was only the second time they’d touched skin to skin. He
barely counted the first, since that was when Noir had been sucking
back on Anderson’s blood without his permission, but now,
something felt different, and his heartbeat picked up.

“You don’t have to resist. I’m giving it to you.”
Noir pulled his lips back, and Anderson didn’t so much as feel a

jolt of fear of the fangs when they came down on his neck.

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Marcy Jacks





Chapter Four


Noir moaned as his mouth latched on to the pulsing spot of

Anderson’s neck, and when his teeth punctured the healing holes he’d
made only yesterday and the blood splashed into his mouth, he
became hard.

Anderson tasted so good. His blood was sweet and singing in

Noir’s mouth and all the way into his own bloodstream. He felt it in
his veins, and the idea that Anderson was inside of him in this way
gave him a thrill he hadn’t ever felt when drinking blood from a glass,
or even another person.

Anderson made a small, pained noise at the initial bite, but then it

transformed into a sigh as Noir took long, leisurely drinks.

He made sure that, while they were big gulps, he was slow to take

the blood into his mouth. He did not forget that he had already drunk
from Anderson yesterday, and drinking too much from the same
human was considered dangerous. For the human, anyway, and Noir
had no intention of ever harming the man in his arms.

He did wonder how far he could go with this as his prick throbbed

for attention with the addition of the new blood in his system. The
poison was still there, working its evil on him, but the fresh blood was
combating it nicely, pushing the side effects at bay and almost
allowing Noir to forget that he was dying.

Should he die whilst in the arms of this gorgeous man, however,

he wasn’t sure he would mind that at all.

They were pressed so tightly together, and with Anderson’s shirt

off and his chest exposed, it was too much of a temptation to resist. It
was almost as if they were in a loving embrace to begin with, so the

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39

rest seemed to come naturally.

Keeping his lips attached at Anderson’s neck, Noir pulled off his

gloves and allowed his bare hands to slide over that lovely stomach,
slim hips, and warm chest.

“What are you doing?” Anderson asked, and though his voice was

startled, there was nothing in his words that demanded Noir stop his
actions. He certainly didn’t pull his hands away from Noir’s shoulder
or the back of his neck.

Deciding he’d had enough of the man’s blood, Noir pulled away,

licked his lips and then the still-bleeding wound of the last delicious
drops, before replying, “I need to touch you.”

He hadn’t intended for his voice to come out sounding so harsh,

but there it was. He needed this.

At the very least he expected some mild form of resistance.

Perhaps to hear Anderson deny what was happening between them, or
claim he was too ugly to have sex with and attempt to push him away,
but he didn’t. Carefully, as though he was afraid that Noir would
break, he turned Noir’s face and pulled his mouth forward for a kiss.

It was as unexpected as it was pleasant, and Noir was not about to

look a gift horse in the mouth as he kissed back with everything he
had.

Perhaps the other man had forgotten that there were dead bodies

mere feet away from them, and that there were still two men, very
much alive, who were out there running for help, because otherwise
Noir doubted Anderson would have thrust his tongue into Noir’s
mouth so eagerly.

It was being under the shade of the willow tree. It curtained

around them, setting an almost romantic lighting and hiding the
darker things outside.

Noir certainly wasn’t about to stop what they were doing to

remind him of this. Danger be damned. Rarely was he so fortunate as
to get someone to enjoy a quick tumble with him and never had it
been a man as beautiful and kind as Anderson was.

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Anyone else would have left him to die when they had the chance

instead of stopping and asking after his own health.

Noir reached his hand down and palmed Anderson’s still-clothed

cock, just to assure himself that this wasn’t only in his imagination
and that Anderson felt it, too.

Anderson was hard, and he moaned low and long, his hips

thrusting against Noir’s hand as he gently squeezed his palm around
the shaft.

Anderson was gripping him now like he was a lifeline. His fingers

dug into the back of Noir’s scalp, and when Noir opened his eyes, he
noted that Anderson had his tightly shut.

Well, he was still grateful that the man was touching him, let

alone they were about to take this even further. If Anderson didn’t
want to look at him while they fucked, then he would not hold it
against the other man.

He didn’t want to, but Noir pulled his mouth away from

Anderson’s, inadvertently making a light smacking sound as their lips
parted. “Your knee,” he said, looking down at the joint. “How should
we do this?”

He was ashamed to admit to himself that there was a rather large

part of him that was terrified that simply asking a question like that
would make Anderson think about just why he should not be doing
this, rather than why he should, but Anderson had no second thoughts.

“I guess on my side. It’s already starting to hurt again kneeling

like this, but you did a good job of making me forget about it.”

His lewd smile as he thrust again into Noir’s hand went straight to

his cock, and he moaned, wanting so much to get Anderson out of
those damned pants.

“This really is not becoming of me. I usually have more control

than this,” Noir said. It got increasingly hotter as he pulled himself
out of his heat-resistant clothing, but just like he assured Anderson
before, he did not catch fire, and whatever discomfort he felt against
his skin was more than worth it to watch Anderson lie back and

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41

shimmy out of the last of his clothing.

“That means I’m good at making you lose control?” the other man

asked.

“You are a wretched little tease. Do you know that?”
“You’re the first person to ever say that to me, actually.”
That made Noir pause for one second while he was in the act of

going through his pockets. He smiled back at the other man,
attempting to convey just how much fun he was going to have with
his body with just a look. “Good. See to it that it stays that way.”

He finally found what he was searching for in another one of the

pockets along the leg of his pants, and then folded them neatly back
up before handing them to Anderson.

“Put those under your head.”
“We’re using your clothes as a pillow?” Anderson asked, but did

as he was told anyway.

Noir just couldn’t bear the thought of dirtying that lovely hair the

man had. “We don’t have to roll around like complete animals. We’ll
need cleaning afterward, but this way you won’t have to press your
face into the ground.”

“There’s nothing in the pockets that I can stab myself with,

though, is there? You do carry around a lot of pointy things.”

“Yes, and they are all right there.” Noir pointed to the small pile

of blades and darts and other items he’d pulled from his pockets while
searching for the right vial. He was pleased that Anderson had still
thought to ask him about his weapons, however, even if Noir had
already removed them.

It proved the man was capable of thinking through certain

situations, and he would not need his hand to be held during the rest
of their journey.

“Oh,” Anderson said, and then shifted onto his side, resting his

head on the makeshift pillow Noir had given him. Then he suddenly
looked up and took note of the vial that Noir had. His smile was a
catty one. “You carry lube around with you?”

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Noir rolled his eyes. “This is a gel for first aid. It seals small- to

medium-sized cuts and scrapes and prevents infection.”

“Then why do you look like you’re getting ready to put it in my

ass?”

Noir smiled and took hold of Anderson’s hand, placing some of

the gel onto his fingers. “This is why. It’s slick.”

Anderson rubbed his fingers together and then grinned back up at

him. “I guess you wouldn’t have gotten far in your career choice if
you didn’t think of extra uses for all your toys.”

He had that right, not like it mattered how far Noir had climbed

the ladder of assassins in the end, anyway.

“Lift your leg a bit. Good, now relax,” Noir said.
He helped to keep Anderson’s leg off the ground just enough so

that he had better access to his asshole. It was entirely unfair how that
part of him was beautiful as well. Every inch of the man was
exquisite, and yet he walked around and talked like he didn’t know
that.

Either way, Noir wasn’t about to press his luck on the issue. He

brought his fingers to Anderson’s pucker and pressed a slick finger
inside.

The man naturally tightened up against the intrusion, and the

entire time Noir kept an eye on his face, searching for any signs of
discomfort.

There were none, and soon enough Anderson sighed and his body

relaxed, allowing Noir to push his finger into him up to his knuckle.

Noir added a second, and his dick and balls pulsed with

impatience at how tight the man was. “I cannot wait to be inside you,
filling you, coming in you,” he said.

“Yeah,” Anderson agreed, and then he pushed back against the

fingers that were stretching him.

Noir wouldn’t put his cock inside that tight heat just yet. He

desperately wanted to, but he would die before he ever allowed
anyone to think he was an inconsiderate lover. He may be ugly, but he

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43

knew how to please his partners in bed, and part of that involved
finding the prostate before getting down to anything else.

He pushed his fingers farther inside, scissoring them and

stretching while he searched.

To his credit, Anderson was being patient with him. Sort of.

“That’s nice,” he moaned, and his fingers gripped the grass, pulling
out some of the blades as he searched for something to hang onto.
“Fuck me, please.”

“Not yet.” Perhaps this was why he had such appreciation from

his other lovers. He had the patience to tease them to the point of
begging, whereas most of the time they were too eager.

Finally he found what he was looking for, and Anderson cried out

long and loud as Noir mercilessly stroked his prostate.

“Oh fuck! I’m coming, fuck!”
That was all the warning Noir needed as he shot his other hand

around Anderson’s waist and grabbed him by the base of his cock.
Anderson released a choked and disappointed cry as his orgasm was
suddenly cut off, but that didn’t stop him from mindlessly thrusting
into Noir’s hand, searching for the release that he wanted so badly.

Noir was having none of that. “You will not come until I am balls

deep inside you. Understand?” he asked, and then bit down gently on
the shell of Anderson’s ear.

Anderson’s moan sounded almost like a pathetic sob. “Fuck, just

hurry then, please!”

There was so much more Noir wanted to do to him. He wanted to

put Anderson on his stomach and put his mouth against the man’s
asshole and lick him until he came. He wanted to put his mouth on
Anderson’s cock as well. He wanted to make this human his in every
way that was possible.

Even Noir had his limits on patience, however. He waited until he

was sure that Anderson wouldn’t come when he pulled his hand away
from the man’s dick. Noir removed his fingers from Anderson’s
asshole and grabbed the vial of gel that he’d kept with him. Even in

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his lust-induced state, he made sure not to use all of what he had
inside the vial, aware that they might need it to treat possible injuries
later. Noir did his best to coat his cock liberally with the stuff while
still conserving it, and then he corked the vial and set it aside.

When he lined up the head of his cock with Anderson’s hole and

pressed against it only a little, the man moaned and pushed back.
“That’s it. Please, fuck me.”

Noir pushed the blunt head of his dick inside of Anderson’s

pucker with a groan and a sigh. Tight. He was still so tight, even with
all the stretching. Noir wouldn’t kid himself into imagining that
Anderson was a virgin, but it had definitely been a long time for him.

Because he’d already found the man’s prostate with his fingers, it

was simply a matter of locating it again with his cock, which he did
with quick succession, and then proceeded to tease it by brushing his
dick against it, and then avoid it for a few more thrusts before coming
back to it again.

Anderson moaned and moved against him, trying to get him to

touch that spot again and again. He reached behind himself and
grabbed hold of Noir’s hip in an attempt to pull him closer, but Noir
only chuckled through his own pleasure and made certain to continue
on with the delicious teasing.

“Not yet. Not yet,” he said.
“You fucking tease,” Anderson said with a groan, but there was

no anger in his voice. He was loving what Noir was doing to him.

Noir wished he could put Anderson on his hands and knees and

just pound into him with wild abandon, but he was constantly careful
of the man’s injured knee. He was going to have to ask him how that
had happened when he wasn’t in such a lust-induced state, but
thinking about it did help him to hold off his orgasm for a little while
longer as he thrust his hips and pushed his dick forward and back.

The sound of Anderson’s moaning became louder, and he moved

harder back against him as they came together. It was too much. No
amount of distracting himself could keep him from the edge of

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45

pleasure with that beautiful noise that was coming from Anderson’s
throat.

He held on tighter to Anderson’s hips and completely let go of his

resolve to draw this out for as long as possible as he pulled almost all
the way out of him, and then slammed back in. He did it again and
again, faster and more shallow each time until he was rutting against
the man with more passion than he’d ever had for any of his former
lovers.

Anderson’s hand reached down and he grabbed and stroked his

cock in time with Noir’s thrusts, then he threw his head back, almost
head butting Noir, and moaned loud as he came, shifting his hips
against his hand and Noir’s cock.

The tightening of his anal walls felt wonderful, and Noir could

hold himself back no longer as he reached around Anderson’s chest,
holding him tightly, and then bit down on his shoulder as he came.

His fangs pierced against the formerly untouched spot and more

blood spilled into Noir’s mouth, which only prolonged his orgasm.

He licked up the blood, but did not suck back anymore. He could

keep himself under control, to a degree, even in this state.

Even so, he was so caught up with the sweet taste of blood in his

mouth, and riding the euphoric sensation of his orgasm while still
having his cock in the other man’s ass, that he almost wasn’t aware of
the way he was connecting himself to Anderson.

He was a little too calm and complacent here under this willow

tree, holding onto his new lover, when he should have gotten to his
feet and started preparing the second it had ended, because they were
still in danger after all.

Despite that, he couldn’t seem to pull himself away. He was

content to stay right where he was, and that thing he felt between
them was only growing stronger until he knew he wouldn’t be able to
sever it no matter how much he tried.

Suddenly, and with a kind of dread he hadn’t felt even while

running for his life away from the Fenrir house of vampires, Noir

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knew what it was, and he knew what had caused Anderson’s injured
knee.

“You’re a werewolf.”

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47





Chapter Five


“Hmm?” Anderson was still in a state of bliss and only

semiwakefulness when Noir had spoken. He was still too busy
soaking up the man’s body heat when he had the audacity to pull
away, leaving Anderson cold and just a little sore around his lower
body.

Noir spoke again, and this time, Anderson heard his words, and

the accusation and anger behind them. “You’re a werewolf.”

Anderson snapped his eyes open and looked up as the other man

hurried back into his clothes, all the while staring at Anderson like he
would transform right then and there and attack him or something.

Like he could ever do something like that.
“How―how did you find out?” Anderson had always been so

careful. No one in the village knew, and his inner wolf was such a
meek thing that it hardly ever needed out, and when it did Anderson
was always fully in control of himself. He’d never gone wild and
attacked anyone, and never felt the need to. As far as he knew, he
hadn’t given Noir any signs that something was off either. How did
he―?

“I know because you just mated with me,” Noir seethed, and

Anderson stiffened as he watched the man reach for his pile of
discarded weapons.

He only put them back in their proper holding places in the many

pockets he kept on his suit.

Anderson was still too busy listening to that last part, and then

repeating it in his mind over and over again. It didn’t make any sense
no matter how much he thought about it. “I didn’t mate with you.”

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“You did,” Noir said, and he tossed Anderson’s clothing at him.

“Get dressed.”

Anderson struggled to get back into his clothing. It was an

awkward process considering he still had lube and fluids on him, but
apparently the time for dawdling was over. He would have to wait
before he could get in a basic wash. “I’m telling you I didn’t mate
with you.”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t feel that passing between us,” Noir said,

and his glare, coupled with the scars on his face that already made
him look fearsome enough as it was, made Anderson shiver.

He’d certainly felt something pass between them. He couldn’t lie

about that, but he’d thought that was just the product of having a
really amazing orgasm with a man he was developing a crush on, not
to mention a bit of hero worship with the way Noir took out his
enemies.

He tried to think about what exactly he knew about werewolf

mating, and there was a whole lot of nothing for him to reference.
He’d heard of it, but he’d thought it was something that had to be
done on purpose, and Anderson already spent so little time in his wolf
form that he was positive he almost didn’t count as one.

Even Hawke hadn’t figured out what Anderson was, and that man

had skills that sometimes went beyond what a normal human was
supposed to have.

“Are you sure?” Anderson asked. “How can you tell?”
“I can feel it,” Noir said, clearly losing his patience. “And so can

you.”

“But I thought werewolves were supposed to bite their mates to

mark them,” Anderson said desperately as that little nugget of
knowledge finally came to him. “I never bit you.”

“Maybe you didn’t have to,” Noir said. He grabbed his mask and

looked down at it. It almost looked like he was staring at his reflection
in the dark goggles. “I bit you, multiple times, and clearly you already
felt something for me, otherwise we would not be in this position to

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49

begin with. You mated with me. We are joined. That is the end of it.”

He seemed so put off by the idea of being forever bonded with

Anderson that he couldn’t help but feel sorry for the man. It was a
kick in the teeth, to be that unwanted, but that was making it more
about himself than about Noir. Anderson had apparently forced a
connection between them, and for a stealthy assassin to be tied down
emotionally and spiritually to a cripple for the rest of his life, well,
that had to be a low blow for him. Not to mention the whole vampires
hating werewolves thing that they now had to contend with.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do it.”
“Get dressed. It is done,” Noir said, and he put on his mask,

vanishing behind it and becoming the strong assassin he was once
more instead of the real and warm man that Anderson had lain with
less than five minutes ago.

Anderson did as he was told, and together they left the curtain of

protection that the willow had cast around them.

Anderson wasn’t a very good werewolf, so his senses weren’t up

to par with other, stronger shifters, but it was like the instant they
stepped out of their little hiding place, the scent of blood finally came
to his nose and shot up his nostrils. He’d forgotten about the dead
men that were surrounding them, and now felt like a complete fool for
allowing himself to do so when he and Noir were in so much obvious
danger.

“Let’s go,” Noir said, and he walked ahead a bit as Anderson

hobbled behind him.

* * * *


They remained silent for several hours. There was no sign that

they were being followed, as far as Anderson could tell. He was able
to watch the way the vampire in front of him was continually glancing
behind himself to make certain that Anderson was still there, and
likely also making sure that no one was coming after them as well.

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Maybe they’d scared off their potential pursuers?
Maybe Hell had decided to open its own theme park.
Twilight had come by the time they’d found a stream, and by then

Anderson was so grateful for the sight of it that he ran to it, regardless
of the pain in his throbbing knee, and fell to his knees―favoring the
bad one―in front of it and damn near stuck his whole head within the
water just to drink.

Bathing could wait. If he had to wait any longer to get a drink in

him then he was sure he would have died.

When he pulled his head back for oxygen, he made sure to be

slower with his second drink, this time only allowing his lips to touch
the surface of the cold stream water.

He’d heard somewhere that drinking too much water too quickly

was dangerous. He wasn’t entirely certain about where he’d heard
that, and if it was true, but he thought it best to pace himself.

Noir seemed to be in better control of himself than Anderson had

been. He knelt about five feet away from Anderson, and had lifted his
mask up only enough to get over his nose, and was making a cup out
of his hands as he brought the water to his chapped lips.

Sometimes Anderson forgot that vampires needed to eat and drink

real food and water on occasion.

The thought of food only made his empty stomach growl. It was

long, loud, and painful, and Anderson groaned. “You don’t happen to
have anything to eat, do you?”

Noir looked sharply at him. With his mask only partially up his

face, he made an odd sight, but Anderson could still register the shock
that was there over the long silence finally having been broken.

“What?”
“Food. I know vampires don’t eat as much but I haven’t had

anything since yesterday.”

He’d been thinking about how thirsty he was for so long that he’d

forgotten about his hunger. Now that the thirst was taken care of, his
body was reminding him that it needed some fuel, or else he wouldn’t

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51

be making it much farther.

Anderson pushed that dark thought out of his head. He was just

really hungry. Not about to die from it. A human, even a werewolf,
could go for weeks without food and still survive, so long as there
was water, and now he had that in abundance.

Noir’s cheeks, what little Anderson could see of them, colored a

little. “No. I’m sorry.”

Great. It looked like he would be waiting until they made it back

to the village before he got some food into him.

He tried to look on the bright side. It wasn’t like he hadn’t gone

hungry before, and so long as they both kept a good pace they would
be back before he knew it. “At least I can finally clean up in the
stream,” he said, recalling the dried itch that was still bothering him
from when he and Noir had come together earlier. He started pulling
off his clothes, and Noir stood up and started to walk away.

Anderson hesitated only briefly before he finished undressing and

stepped into the cold water.

The shock against his warm skin was enough to take his mind

away from his stupid hurting heart, and the hunger that was still
almost literally eating away at him.

He didn’t know how long he would have in the stream, and he

didn’t want to be in the water when it got full dark, so Anderson took
in a deep breath, waded to the deeper side of the gentle stream, and
then dunked himself under.

His cock and balls shriveled in protest and suddenly he was more

awake and aware than he had been when he’d spent the entire day
walking alongside Noir.

He came back up for air and began to quickly scrub himself down,

running his hands through his hair and scratching away the dirt and
other things that had accumulated on this journey.

When he finished, his body had adjusted to the temperature, and

he felt noticeably cleaner and less itchy.

There was still no sign of Noir, and it was nearly full dark.

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Well, if he wasn’t around then that meant Anderson had the bank

all to himself. He waded out of the water, and his chilled skin
developed goose bumps at the slightest breeze, but he had nothing to
dry himself with, and he didn’t want to wear wet clothes during the
night either, so cleaning them was also out of the question.

He found a dry and soft patch of grass that was just within the

trees. He’d wanted to lie down beneath a convenient pine, but the idea
of all those prickly bits stabbing his skin wasn’t too appealing.

He lay back and placed his hands behind his head to relax. A

crack of thunder sounded, and Anderson sighed.

There was that storm he’d felt coming in his bad knee. He thought

it would never get here.

He looked up and watched for the lightning. It still seemed pretty

far off in the distance, but he knew better than anyone how fast the
rains could sweep over the land.

Anderson wondered if Noir was coming back for him, or if he’d

finally decided that Anderson was too much trouble to keep alive now
that he’d drunk his fill of blood. It wasn’t like the man was so sick
that he couldn’t find the village on his own now anyway.

God. That was depressing, and he was still starving.
A rustle in the trees and bushes alerted him that something was

approaching.

Anderson sat up quickly, doing the thing that he wasn’t supposed

to do and relying more on his eyesight than his other senses.

He breathed a sigh of relief when Noir came into view. He was

still wearing his mask, but he also had a couple of dead rabbits held
by the ears in his right hand.

“I have something for you,” he said, holding them up as though

Anderson could have missed them.

“Th–thank you,” he said, lifting himself onto his elbows.
Noir cleared his throat and looked away, and Anderson

remembered that he was still naked.

He supposed he was dry enough now except for his hair, and so he

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53

reached for his clothes. “You went out and caught those for me?”

“I will be sharing one of them with you. You reminded me that I

should eat something as well to keep my strength up.”

“Well, so long as you brought enough for two,” he said, hardly

minding the fact that Noir still didn’t care enough about him to feed
him, and just decided he might as well split the meat since he was
going hunting anyway. Anderson would use the energy he got to be
disheartened after he’d been fed.

“I will light a small fire to cook them, but I will also put it out

immediately after they are ready. I do not want to draw any unwanted
attention onto us.”

Another rumble of thunder sounded, this time a little closer. Noir

didn’t jerk in surprise at the sound. He must have heard the last one.
“It seems you were right about the coming storm. How long will it
last?”

“I’m only a little good at telling how long they go for, but I’d

definitely say through the night. You don’t happen to have a tent or
anything in one of your one thousand pockets, do you?”

“I have a camouflaged tarp. It’s mainly used for when we are

forced to hide during the daylight hours, but it will keep us dry if I
can find some proper trees to tie it to and shrubs to hide us.”

That sounded good, and Noir wasn’t talking about not letting him

into the space with him, so he was grateful. Though he did wonder
about how they were going to share a small space together now that
Noir knew what he was and was still angry over Anderson
accidentally mating with him. He cleared his throat and decided to
worry about that when it happened. “Thank you. I think we should
cook those now.”

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Chapter Six


The rabbits were the most delicious things Anderson had ever

tasted. He’d eaten rabbit before, but he normally didn’t like it when
he did. Not because the meat was bad or anything, but somehow,
looking at them, he just never had the heart to kill and skin them for
their meat.

It was probably because he’d had pet rabbits as a boy. They’d

made him soft, but he would definitely eat them when he was hungry
enough. Noir even gave him some of his own rabbit when it became
obvious to the man how hungry Anderson was.

He’d wolfed down the half he’d been given, and though he could

have still eaten more until he was bursting, he sighed gratefully and
lay back.

Noir finished his meal quickly and doused out the fire by kicking

sand over it. “We need to find shelter,” he’d said.

Another crack of thunder sounded, loud and nearly over their

heads. Anderson nodded. He washed the grease off his hands and face
quickly and took another drink while Noir made it look as though
there had never been a fire to begin with, and then they set off back
into the trees.

The air was so damp that his knee throbbed with every step.

Anderson had the energy to deal with it now, however, and the
thought of getting caught in the coming rain only pushed him on.

Noir was good at what he did. Whereas Anderson would’ve tied

off the tarp to any tree that looked worthy, Noir searched for
something that would actually work to their benefit, something that
Anderson definitely wouldn’t have been able to do, considering it was

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pitch-black outside.

He found it on a giant boulder sticking out of the ground.

Anderson almost didn’t notice it, but Noir had. It was surrounded by
trees and shrubs, so it was well hidden, and just high enough off of
the ground that the spot where they would be sitting wouldn’t become
wet with rain trickling downhill. The top was angled awkwardly, but
not so much that they wouldn’t be able to lie down and sleep
comfortably.

As comfortably as would be possible on a rock.
A fat raindrop splashed on the top of Anderson’s head, and they

both hurried to tie off the tarp that would keep them protected from
the rain.

“Normally, these aren’t meant for two,” Noir said when they

made it under, and then the rain began to pour so heavily that it was
difficult to see anything outside.

Anderson wanted to say that he didn’t mind, which would have

been the truth. He liked sharing Noir’s body heat, and he liked being
close to the man, even if Noir didn’t particularly like him at the time.

Noir had a couple of small rods in another one of his pockets that

extended impossibly long, and he’d used them to create a curve in the
top of the tarp, so that the water would drip easily off, as well as keep
it from flapping around in the wind. Only a little wind got beneath
their makeshift shelter, making it chilly, but at least they were dry and
not out in that.

“I guess this means no one will be looking for us tonight,”

Anderson said.

“The humans won’t be. This wouldn’t stop vampire, but your

village weakened the Fenrir clan enough that they won’t be risking
any more men for some time. They’ll have enough to deal with now
that there’s hardly a man available to keep their werewolf guards in
line.”

That was good news. “So we’re safe?”
Noir shifted a little. “I suppose so, as much as could be expected,

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under the circumstances.”

Anderson wanted to keep talking to him. He wanted the man to

take off that damn mask already and look at him, but he didn’t.

Noir was right. Anderson really had mated with him. He didn’t

understand how or why he’d done it, but now that it was done, the
fact that the other man, vampire or not, was ignoring him was killing
him. “Why do you still have your mask on? Take it off.”

“Giving me orders already?”
“No, it’s just weird. You said you only needed it to protect you

from the sun, but it’s dark out now and raining. Why are you wearing
it?”

Noir tapped a finger against one of the dark goggles he wore.

“These enhance my vision at night. I can see perfectly fine through
the rain with them.”

“Really? Those are night vision?”
Noir nodded.
“I didn’t think vampires needed that.”
“Not usually, but they are mostly for occasions such as these, or in

extreme fog, where our regular night vision would not be helpful.”

“But the humans chasing us won’t have goggles like that, right?”
“I doubt the vampires who hired them would be willing to hand

over their technology to humans.”

“So then take off your mask, you don’t need to stand guard all

night.”

Noir sighed, a long, drawn-out sound that made Anderson feel

like a pest, but he didn’t care.

Thankfully, Noir didn’t make any more of an issue out of it and he

just took the damned thing off. He had a scowl on his face. The real
kind. It wasn’t just the look of his scars. He was actually scowling.

Anderson sucked in a small breath. “I told you I was sorry.”
“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”
“You’re angry.”
“Of course I am. I thought we were just…” Noir cut himself off.

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“Just having some fun?” Anderson finished.
Noir hesitated for only a second. “Yes. That’s not intended to hurt

your feelings.”

“I appreciate that, but I wasn’t exactly trying to get you in bed

with me so that I could force you into anything. I wanted sex, too.”
He still did want it. “So it’s not like you can hurt my feelings by
saying anything like that.”

Noir just nodded, and he was still looking out into the rain, as

though searching for possible threats, even without the aid of his
goggles. Anderson wondered just how much danger they were still in
for him to be doing that. It made him more than a little afraid, but that
fear also produced an adrenaline inside of him that made him want to
be with Noir again.

If this was going to be their last night alive, then why not?
“Why do you hate werewolves?” Anderson asked. He thought it

best to understand where Noir’s hatred of him came from before he
tried to start anything physical again.

Noir glanced at him from the corner of his bad eye. “I don’t hate

them. Not really, and I don’t hate you either. I know that’s what
you’re really asking.”

Shit. Noir was way too smart.
Noir rubbed his eyes with his gloved fingers. “You were

transformed into a werewolf,” he said, and then looked pointedly at
the knee that Anderson was massaging. “I take it they did that to
you.”

“Uh, yeah. Look, when we get back to my village. I’d appreciate

it if you didn’t tell anyone about that either.”

Noir lifted a brow at him, and somehow that only made him look

even more handsome. “You are lying to your own people about what
you are? Isn’t that dangerous?”

“Look, I’m not dangerous, okay. I don’t have urges to eat people

like real werewolves do.”

“Real werewolves?” Noir settled back against his hands in a

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casual pose that Anderson hadn’t expected of him, but the look on his
face was encouraging. “This I have to hear.”

Anderson smiled at him. This was good. This was what he’d

wanted. A chance to explain himself.

“I originally came from the werewolf district. That’s where I was

born. The human villages over there live in fear of being attacked by
werewolves at night, but they’d managed to convince themselves that
it was worth the risk. Werewolf packs over there are mostly wild, and
humans can defend themselves. Werewolves also don’t take humans
for blood slaves, like they do here in the vampire district.”

Noir nodded solemnly at that, and Anderson continued on, hoping

he hadn’t struck a nerve with the other man. He shifted a little closer,
searching for body heat and comfort as he spoke.

“Even I believed for a time that it was better over there, because

my village had only ever been attacked four or five times in my entire
life. I was twenty years old by the time the last one rolled around, and
that was when I got this.” Anderson nodded down at his leg.

Noir seemed to contemplate his words. “So your village went for

years at a time without attack? That does sound…” Noir seemed to
search for a proper word.

Anderson spared him the trouble. “It wasn’t peaceful, by any

means. We still had lots of nights where the adults went outside to
watch the gates they’d built with their torches and guns, wolves
howling all night until dawn. Those were almost worse than the actual
attacks because everyone was wide awake all night, scared that that
was going to be the night where we all died. Meanwhile some of the
adults would still lull the children to sleep as if nothing was wrong.
Guess they thought if the kids were going to die, better they be
sleeping when it happened.”

“I’m sorry,” Noir said. “You said you were twenty when you got

that?”

Anderson flexed his knee and felt it pop. He stiffened under the

pain and was disappointed when the throbbing didn’t so much as

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simmer down. “Seven years ago, yeah.”

“By a werewolf.”
“Yeah.” Anderson heard the accusation that was in Noir’s voice.

“The village was completely destroyed. I don’t know what it was that
caused them to attack, but when I say I’m not a real werewolf, I say
that I’m not like they are. I don’t eat people alive whether I’m in my
human form or wolf form. I doubt I could take on a werewolf in my
wolf form anyway. I’m a pretty weak wolf.”

“But you still went into another human village. You put them in

danger.”

Anderson felt his anger bubbling up inside of him. He could have

said that Noir’s former position put humans in danger all the time, but
he didn’t want to start a yelling match that he knew he wouldn’t win
with the man. He took a deep breath and counted to five instead.

“I didn’t even know I was a werewolf until a month later on the

next full moon.”

Noir’s eyes widened slightly, but then his face returned to neutral.

“How is that possible?”

Anderson shrugged. “I told you, my wolf is weak. I don’t need to

transform very often. I don’t feel the urge to go out running and
hunting things the way other werewolves are supposed to. I think it
was because of the way I was transformed, but I guess I wasn’t too
concerned with paying attention to my own wounds at the time,
considering my mother and sister were being devoured right in front
of me.”

He couldn’t help the small glare he sent Noir’s way when he said

that. When the man ducked his head and looked away, it at least
proved he had a heart in there somewhere.

“My condolences,” Noir said.
Anderson hadn’t expected that, and he appreciated it. “It’s in the

past, but the werewolves who were doing it, they were still in their
human forms. Mostly. They looked halfway between a shift. The one
that smashed in my leg was like that. His fist was enormous and had

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some hair and long claws, but it wasn’t a paw that did it. At first I
didn’t even know my knee was broken. Looking back, I guess the
werewolf venom from the claws had already gotten into me. I didn’t
die, but I wasn’t able to run away. I had to drag myself out of the
house while the others were busy eating my family.”

Apparently it wasn’t so long ago that Anderson was beyond

crying just thinking about it. Noir tentatively put his hand on
Anderson’s shoulder, and he was desperate enough for that small
comfort that he leaned into the man’s body.

He felt Noir stiffen, but the man didn’t push him away. He curled

his whole arm around Anderson’s shoulders instead. Anderson felt
instantly better, and he wiped his eyes with his palm.

“Other villagers found me a couple of days later. I thought I was

going to die by then, but they nursed me back to health, mostly.
Offered to let me stay with them and everything. Even they couldn’t
tell what I was, so I didn’t suspect it either. I wanted out of the
district. I’d seen werewolves at their worst and was willing to risk the
vampires. I just traded one nightmare for another.”

“I apologize for my anger with you earlier. You are right. I have

tasted your blood and seen you in stressful situations. You are hardly
the sort of creature that I need to fear will become wild on me.”

“I still mated with you without your say-so, don’t forget.”
Noir’s voice only became a little gruff at that reminder. “Yes,

well, what’s done is done. I would rather concentrate on surviving and
worry about that later.”

Those words, coupled with their position, gave Anderson a boost

of hope that he really needed.

“I don’t suppose that you shifting into your wolf form would

allow this journey to go any faster?” Noir asked.

“I doubt it,” Anderson admitted. “My leg is still bad in my wolf

form. I can’t run very well and hunting is out of the question. It’s
worth a try, for a little while at least.”

Anderson didn’t want to think about transforming into his wolf.

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He was too focused on the warm body next to him and the soothing
sound of the rain against the tarp. It was still pouring out something
awful, and it was cold, but Anderson didn’t want to move. He wanted
to stay where he was.

“You know, you’re awfully sympathetic to humans for a

vampire,” Anderson noted.

Noir chuckled. “I see Hawke didn’t make my dirty secret known

throughout the entire village.”

Anderson looked up at him. “What secret?”
“And you are not very observant, either, I see. I did have my

glove off the last time we were together.”

Anderson blushed at the reminder, but Noir was already removing

the glove on his right hand, and now he was more curious than
anything. The sight of the infinity tattoo on the back of his hand
shocked the hell out of him. “You’re a slave? Vampires do that to
their own?”

“Only the ones who are half human.”

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Chapter Seven


“I’d rather not talk too much about it,” Noir said, and that was all

he wanted to say on the subject, but he knew better than to think he
could show something like that to Anderson after the man had just
poured his heart out to him about his past and not have to return the
favor at least a little.

“I won’t make you say anything you don’t want to.”
He actually thought he could force Noir’s hand. It was cute, but

the thought that he wouldn’t pester him into revealing anything he
didn’t want to was still a comfort.

“I know you won’t,” Noir said, feigning a confidence he didn’t

quite feel. He wasn’t meant to speak about things such as these.
Hawke had been the first person he’d ever told about being a former
slave, but that had been all he’d said, and only to make the man
understand.

Noir was the only person Anderson had ever told about his past as

a werewolf, and only because he had no choice, really.

Noir did have a choice, but he wanted to tell this. He wanted

someone to know about his pain. He’d sensed the relief that Anderson
had felt when he told his story to Noir, and now he wanted the same
relief.

“My mother was a human slave, and my father one of the younger

sons of a noble house of vampires. She gave me a name, but I don’t
know what that was since she was killed when I was still an infant.
I’m sure the vampires would have liked to kill me as well, but for
whatever reason I was kept alive. Perhaps they thought my resistance
to the sun would be useful to them, but they soon found out that I

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could not walk directly in the daylight with no protection at all. I
would still burn, but not as quickly, and I healed faster.

“These scars, however,” Noir said, and drew a line down the

crooked places of his lips and eye. “These were given to me when I
was thirteen. They said it was to make me into a warrior that everyone
would fear whenever I was seen, and I believed it at first, but later I
learned it was simply to keep other vampires from noticing the
resemblance between myself and my father. I was sold to another
house shortly after that.”

Anderson did something then that Noir hadn’t been expecting. He

kissed Noir’s hand, right over the infinity tattoo that marked him as a
slave.

“I’m sorry,” he said.
“I don’t want your pity,” Noir said.
He tried to pull away, but Anderson gripped his arm and held on

tight. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what? Let go of me,” he demanded.
“Don’t tell me something like that and get offended when I feel

something for you about it. I’m a werewolf but I’m not made of stone,
you know. I know you’re strong. I’ve seen you in action, but I still
feel horrible that those things happened to you.”

Noir thought about that. “I suppose I could live with that

reaction.”

“So you never wanted out? Of your life as a slave, I mean?”
Noir sighed. “I didn’t know anything else. So, no, I never wanted

out. I was educated well enough, well fed, and even when I was freed
and they began paying me, I was still left to my small quarters and
mostly ignored. I felt as though I had accomplished a lot and was
proud to have been a former slave, being paid in blood and money.”

“That’s why you went back?”
Anderson was clearly speaking of the last attack against his

village, of which Noir had been the only survivor. He hadn’t even
thought about leaving his home and his position then, even when the

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rest of his team had perished and he could have gone about his merry
way. It never crossed his mind.

“Perhaps I should be grateful that the master of the Fenrir house

poisoned me.”

“What? Why would you be grateful for something like that?”
Noir would have to be a fool to not have noticed the way the other

man had been slowly inching his way closer to him. He smelled
Anderson’s blood and wanted a taste of it, he could feel his body heat
even through his clothes, and it had been the worst sort of teasing
after he’d returned from his brief hunt to find the man naked and
lounging about after a bath, beautiful and with wet hair.

He was handsome, and he’d mated with Noir. Noir knew that

likely meant the lust he was feeling was merely a by-product of that
mating, but he didn’t care, so long as Anderson was willing.

“I suppose I never would have bothered to fight for my freedom.

My real freedom, I mean, had he not chased me out. I also would
never have met you,” he added, because it was true.

He was glad to have met this odd werewolf, and he wouldn’t have

changed a thing.

He kept that part to himself.
He looked down at Anderson’s lips. They were bright pink with

the chill in the air, but the other man was no longer massaging his
aching knee. He seemed to have forgotten all about that as he stared
back at Noir.

Noir wanted to kiss him. He was about to do just that when

Anderson beat him to it. The man grabbed him by the ears and pulled
him forward with a passion that would have Noir believe Anderson
was really kissing a handsome man.

Perhaps this was part of the werewolf mating thing, and it was

affecting them both. Noir had never before felt a lust so consuming as
this. The touch of Anderson’s lips was wonderful, and it sent jolts of
pleasure straight to his cock. His suit was altogether too tight and hot.

He wanted this, but he held Anderson at bay, even as he clutched

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the man tighter to him, refusing to let him go and driving his tongue
into Anderson’s mouth.

The first time they had come together had been irresponsible of

him. Now, even with the rain, would be beyond that.

But he desperately needed it. This damn mating spell that

Anderson had him under would kill them both, because Anderson
sure as hell did not seem concerned about the risks.

“Wait. Wait,” he said, finally pulling together enough willpower

to push Anderson away from him.

“What is it?” he asked breathlessly, and staring with those wide

blue eyes at Noir. He was afraid Noir would stop this.

He couldn’t. They were beyond that now, but he still had to check.
“Give me my mask,” he said, nodding to where he’d put the thing.
Anderson reached out and grabbed it. He handed it to Noir with

the face of a kicked puppy, or wolf, as the case was. He began to pull
himself away, but Noir took his hand before that delicious heat could
leave him. “Don’t move. I’m just checking the perimeter.”

“Oh, I knew that,” Anderson lied.
Noir couldn’t help but smile as he shook his head. He folded his

mask enough so that he could put the goggles to his eyes without
placing the whole thing over his head. He did a quick search of the
area, looking for anything within the rain and trees that might be
sinister.

Anderson did a fine job of distracting him by kissing his neck and

massaging his hips.

“This tarp is camouflaged,” Anderson said, as though Noir could

have forgotten. “We’re hidden behind these trees and it’s pouring out.
No one will sneak up on us.”

Noir pulled the goggles away from his eyes. He’d found nothing,

so he might as well enjoy the company of a handsome man. It wasn’t
like he got the opportunity to do that very often. “I suppose you’re
right,” he said, and then lowered the mask and set it down to be
forgotten again as Anderson climbed into his lap and kissed him into

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oblivion.

* * * *


“Should we move in?”
Tom put his hand up, signaling Jack, who was already moving

forward as if to do just that, without his say-so no less, to stop.

His idiot little brother was going to get them killed one day. Tom

might’ve killed him already if he didn’t love the bastard so much.

“Leave them alone for now. They don’t know we’re here.”
“The vampire nearly spotted us before. I know he did,” Jack said,

ever the pessimist.

“He didn’t. He’s still weak, and the only reason why he’s still

alive is because he’s feeding from that human.”

“If we killed him now and brought the human back, it would be

too easy,” Jack argued. He had the decency to keep his voice down at
least, because even though the two men looked like they were taking
their clothes off, and the rain was pelting down on them hard, there
was always the chance that a vampire’s hearing would be able to pick
up what they were saying even from this distance.

Tom had been stunned when he realized what the two men were

doing. The tarp was tied down low, making it difficult to see the faces
of the men within it, but with how close they were sitting, and with
the exposed flesh, it didn’t take an educated man to realize what was
happening.

Jack was right. It would be easy to just go over there and end it.

They could both sell the human as a slave to the vampires and return
the body of the traitor they’d been hired to track down with little fuss,
and with the rest of the team dead, they wouldn’t even have to split
the reward money.

It was a tempting thought, and Tom even considered it. He stroked

his chin. He needed a shave, but he would be shaving in a fine tavern
with the money they brought in once they found the location of the

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village the human hailed from. He could even hire some girls to shave
his face for him.

With the money they would get with information like that, they

wouldn’t have to worry about working for a good long while. Winter
would definitely be easier.

It was the thought of spending the coming winter warm and rich,

instead of scrounging around for scraps, that held him back when he
could have gone in for the kill now.

“No. We wait until they start moving again. The vampire is still

suffering the effects of the poison and hasn’t noticed us yet. We’ll let
them take us to the village, and then everything will take care of itself.
You’ll see.”

Jack bit his lips together, but he nodded in agreement. That was

the reason why Tom liked him so much and hadn’t killed him like
he’d done to his other siblings. Jack was useful and took his orders
well. His sisters only sucked up resources and his other brother was a
pain in the ass that never wanted to do any of the hard jobs, even
though it brought in better money.

He’d been too much of a human loyalist, so he had to go. Not

Jack.

“If you say so,” he said.
“I do.”

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Chapter Eight


“I don’t suppose you have any more of that first aid slippery stuff,

do you?”

Noir rolled his eyes at Anderson’s name for the lube they’d used

before. Anderson didn’t care what it was really supposed to be used
for, so long as they had some of it and it worked.

He was currently sitting on Noir’s lap, they were both deliciously

naked, and Anderson no longer felt the chill in the air as they thrust
against each other. Anderson kept his movements slow and deliberate
as he kissed and nipped along Noir’s neck. He’d always had a
suspicion that vampires would like having their necks played with.

Noir was a gasping mess under Anderson’s treatment, and it made

Anderson eager to see how he would react when he made it to his
thighs.

“I have some left,” he said, and then groaned as Anderson ground

his hips down.

Anderson liked the power this gave him over the stronger man. He

felt confident in his movements. “But?” he asked, then stretched up to
take Noir’s earlobe into his mouth, worrying the flesh between his
teeth.

“There will be none left after that. We might need it for an

emergency.”

“We’ll be home soon,” Anderson promised, then because he

didn’t want Noir to come out of the lust-filled trance he had him in, he
started paying attention to his lower jaw and bottom lip.

He pressed his lips everywhere on Noir that he thought would get

him the reaction he wanted, and finally the man groaned and gave in.

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He grabbed Anderson around the neck and pulled his face closer

in a hard kiss. Anderson expected the sharp pain of clashing teeth to
hit, but nothing came. Likely because Noir was used to being careful
when it came to his teeth. He probably had lots of lovers before
Anderson. Being a dangerous assassin had to have at least some
sexual allure amongst the vampire elite.

Anderson told himself to stop being jealous of the people who

came before him and just enjoy what was happening here and now. It
was easy when Noir’s tongue touched the crease of his lips and, oh!
He was in Heaven. Anderson opened his mouth eagerly and pressed
himself closer to Noir when the other man’s tongue slid inside.

Anderson thrust himself against Noir harder once more, the

pleasure suddenly too much to resist, and all he wanted to do was get
off.

Noir’s hands fumbled between them, and the soft sound of a small

cork being popped out made it to his ears. Even the idea of what Noir
was getting ready to do to him almost wasn’t enough to make him
stop. Noir had to push him back a little.

“Stop. Lay your clothing down. The rock is too rough,” Noir said,

and he all but pushed Anderson off of him as he started arranging his
own clothes as well.

He had a point about the rock being too hard, and Anderson sure

didn’t feel like getting fucked on cold, hard stone.

He laid out his pants and T-shirt on the rock, and immediately

knew it wouldn’t be enough to soften the surface, but at least the
material would act as a barrier between him and the cold stone.

Noir pulled all the sharp and dangerous things out of his pockets

like before, and he folded his clothes into a nice and neat pile.

“Here,” he said, and Anderson grinned as he put them behind his

head. Another makeshift pillow, just like before.

“I’m starting to think you’re something of a gentleman,” he

teased.

He noticed immediately the splash of color on Noir’s face as he

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froze in the act of putting the last of the lube they had on his fingers.

Anderson could hardly believe it. They were naked and Noir was

practically on top of him and getting ready to put his fingers in
Anderson’s ass, yet accusing him of being a gentleman was the thing
that made him blush.

“I like it,” Anderson said quickly. “Don’t think anyone’s ever

treated me so nice in bed before.”

“I do not enjoy being rough with my partners,” Noir said.
Anderson was curious now about just how vampires treated their

sexual partners, but not so curious that his cock and balls had
suddenly decided to call for a break. If anything he was actually
starting to feel pained with the time they were taking here.

“Good to know.” Anderson shifted and lay back on the rough

surface of clothes they’d both put together. It was definitely still
rough, but the cold didn’t make it through to disturb him. He lifted his
hips and knees then, exposing his asshole for Noir to see.

The man actually moaned at the sight of him. Anderson had never

had anyone do that before.

His fingers weren’t even cold when they touched his pucker, but

Anderson still shivered with anticipation.

“Are you all right?” Noir asked.
And the man blushed when Anderson accused him of being a

gentleman. “Fine. Don’t stop.”

Noir’s movements, while still careful for Anderson’s comfort,

were distinctly faster than they had been the last time they did this.
Noir fingered him with an urgency that, despite the dangerous
situation, hadn’t been there the last time.

Anderson was gasping and thrusting against Noir’s hand, trying to

encourage his fingers to go deeper inside of him, to feel more of that
burn, but just when he felt the sizzle of the man’s fingertips against
his prostate, they pulled away.

Anderson made a keening noise that was very disapproving. Noir

only smirked at him, and it still looked sinister and evil with the scar

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on his lips, but in a strangely good way.

“Eager I see.” He reached down, and though Anderson couldn’t

see it, he was clearly grabbing onto his own cock, lubing and stroking
it as he shifted his hips closer to Anderson’s.

“Shut up and put that thing inside me,” he demanded. Mostly that

was his cock talking. Anderson was also pretty sure that his balls had
literally turned blue with all the waiting around.

He shivered again when he felt the blunt tip of Noir’s cock

pushing against his hole and then entering him with a pop.

Anderson lifted his knees higher and hooked his feet around

Noir’s thighs. “If you even think about teasing me this time, I’ll make
you regret it,” he said, glaring at the other man as he warned him not
to do any of that stuff he’d done last time. Pulling out so far that
Anderson had thought he would slip right out of him.

Noir’s face, which had only just previously been relaxed in

pleasure, jolted back into awareness with surprise before he realized
that Anderson’s threat was, mostly, playful.

“And what would you do to make me regret it, I wonder?” he said,

and then lazily thrust his hips forward before Anderson could utter a
response.

The bastard knew exactly what he was doing. Anderson opened

his mouth, confident that some smart-ass thing would come out, but
that slow and deliberate thrusting of Noir’s hips was turning his brain
into slop.

Then the blunt head of his cock nudged against Anderson’s

prostate, and it was too much. All the wanting and teasing was
coming full circle and he was about to erupt even before they’d had
the chance to really enjoy each other.

“Not very much, I see,” Noir said, answering his own question

from before.

“Oh God, shut up and fuck me!” Anderson yelled, gripping Noir

tighter and pressing his mouth against Noir’s scarred lips.

Noir froze a little unexpectedly before he melted into the kiss and

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began thrusting against Anderson quickly. His own moaning became
longer and louder as they moved against each other.

Anderson’s cock was still trapped between them, but it felt

anything but neglected considering the friction it was receiving from
both of their stomachs, and if anything the added sensation only
heightened the pleasure that he already felt as he threw his head back
against Noir’s folded clothes and came with a shout.

Noir was still moving above him, still gasping and moaning, and

Anderson held the man tightly to him, watching his face and eyes as
he finished himself off.

Something was different now. Anderson couldn’t quite put his

finger on it, but something was no longer the same between them.
There was a change, and his suspicions were only solidified when he
felt Noir’s warm cum spurting inside him as the man tensed up above
him and groaned.

He trembled when it was over, and so did Anderson. His heart

was still drumming a mile a minute and his bones felt heavy and
useless. His knee was hurting again, but he didn’t dare move. He
didn’t want to.

“Was that part of mating?” Anderson asked.
Noir lifted himself up just enough to look at him curiously. He’d

collapsed on top of Anderson’s chest, and they were currently
enjoying each other’s body heat.

“What?”
“That thing I just felt. You had to have felt it, too. Is that part of

werewolf mating?”

At first Anderson worried that Noir might keep on trying to deny

what he’d felt, but he didn’t. He didn’t exactly seem relieved about it,
though. “I don’t know. I do feel closer to you, more at ease.”

“You sure that’s not just because you’re starting to genuinely like

me?”

Again, Noir had that wide-eyed confusion on his face, but then he

smiled, and his teeth showed. “You are infuriating. Do you know

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that?”

“I have been told that I am a very lovable character, yes.”
“Idiot,” Noir said, but there was no venom in his voice.
Anderson was still sorry to watch him get up, however, since it

left Anderson in the cold air and covered in goose bumps. Whatever
rumors he’d heard about werewolves over the years, being immune to
the cold was the one he always wanted to correct people the most on.
It was a load of garbage, as far as he was concerned.

Maybe he didn’t have that extremely warm skin because he was

such a pathetic excuse for a werewolf.

Either way, he was beginning to notice that he and Noir were

becoming closer, and more at ease with each other. The only thing
that had Anderson so giddy about that was his own gut instinct that
their closeness had more to do with the two of them rather than any
accidental mating.

Noir was looking over his weapons, ignoring Anderson, but he

still caught the way the other man’s eyes would glance in his
direction. Noir cared, at least a little. Anderson always had that.

He handed the man his clothes so he could put away all of his

knives and poisons, and then they both started to get dressed. Noir
tore off the sleeve of his T-shirt and stuck it outside of the tarp,
wetting it with the rain, and then he handed it to Anderson.

“Wash,” he said.
Anderson blushed and did as he was told, using the end of the

sleeve like it was a washcloth. He didn’t know what to do with it
when he was finished, but Noir just took it and tossed it outside of
their little shelter.

“I’ll bury that later,” was all he’d said.
Anderson nodded and finished dressing, touched that Noir had

even thought to do something like that for him.

“It’s not raining as hard as it was before,” Noir said, barely

sparing a glance outside of the tarp, but he was right, of course.

The rain wasn’t coming down in heavy sheets as it had been

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before, and now it was even possible to see.

Still, Anderson wasn’t looking forward to walking out in the rain

and mud. “Are we going to pack up and set out?”

“That depends. How does your knee feel?”
Anderson flexed it and felt it pop. “It hurts, but not that much. I

think you’re right. The rain will stop completely soon.”

Noir nodded. “You should sleep for a few hours at least. I don’t

want to stop again until we reach your village.”

The idea of sleep sounded amazing, and after another incredible

orgasm, Anderson was feeling up for a good rest.

Sleeping on a rock and only for a few hours likely wouldn’t leave

him rejuvenated. This was strictly to get his energy back up for the
journey.

“What about you? Will you be able to hold off for that long?”
The last thing in the world Anderson wanted was to wake up and

find his protector and new mate dead from whatever poison had been
injected into him.

“I will be well enough for three hours. Go to sleep. I will be here

when you wake.”

Anderson settled down and folded his arm beneath him so that he

wouldn’t have to rest his head on the rock. He must have been more
tired than he’d thought, because it wasn’t long before his mind began
to wander and he started to drift off.

He was still enough in the land of the awake to notice when the

warm body pressed up against him from behind, and Anderson was
wrapped up in warmth, around his body and in his chest, when he fell
asleep.

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Chapter Nine


Noir didn’t have the energy to stay awake and watch Anderson

through the long nap he was about to have. He was still tired, and had
a growing headache for what seemed like hours, even after he’d
gotten another drink from Anderson’s vein.

He waited until he was certain the other man was asleep before he

settled down with him. It was only the product of their mating that
made Noir feel so comfortable where he was, he was sure, but he was
able to rest easily and wake after the time was up completely
refreshed.

His line of work had trained his body to sleep and wake easily,

and he was always refreshed when he got up for the day.

Lately, because of the poison, such had not been the case. Tonight

was different. He woke before Anderson had and was ready to go.

Anderson got up when Noir shook him, but he looked very much

like he wanted to go back to sleep. His eyes were swollen and he
could barely open his lids. If misery had a real face, his would be it.

He took it well enough, however, yawning wide and rubbing his

eyes as they untied the tarp and set off into the damp forest. It was
still dark, so Noir didn’t have to bother with his mask right away, and
Anderson was too tired to do more than hobble after him. He didn’t
even speak about the night they’d shared and that strange sensation
that had passed through them the last time they came together.

Noir was still contemplating it some hours later when Anderson

fell. Noir had only seen it from the corner of his eye when the man’s
knee gave out and he went face forward, but Noir reached out and
caught him before he could land in wet rocks and twigs.

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“Thanks,” Anderson had said. He wasn’t looking at Noir, but he

was gripping him tight. His face was clearer now compared to when
he woke up, and the misery he saw there was not brought on by not
having enough sleep. It was clear he was struggling with something
else.

“How long has your leg been paining you?” Noir demanded. They

were both tired and weak, and he was becoming increasingly paranoid
that someone was following them.

“It’s been worse before. I can keep going,” Anderson said.
Noir looked around just to be sure they were alone, but there was

no being sure of anything anymore. His nose felt clogged and it was
becoming increasingly difficult to focus his eyes.

“The last time it was as bad as this, were you fleeing the werewolf

district?”

Anderson bit his lips together. “Yeah.”
“Well, this is hardly the same thing. You cannot push yourself like

the wolves are at your back. You will have no strength for later.”

Noir was lying, of course. For all they knew, the wolves were at

their backs, figuratively, but still. The point was that they were
running for their lives, and Noir needed to see Will and be healed
before he could succumb to the poison that was killing him.

“I didn’t want you to worry,” Anderson said.
Noir had a sarcastic reply to that on the tip of his tongue, but he

held it back when he realized that, yes, he did indeed worry for the
other man. He was scared for him. Scared that Anderson wouldn’t be
able to keep up with him should they be attacked, and werewolf or
not, that he also wouldn’t be able to defend himself.

“Well I am worried now, more so than I would have been if you’d

just told me you were still hurting.”

“I’m trying, okay? It’s all this travelling. I’m not used to it

anymore.”

“I could carry you,” Noir offered, though it would be awkward.

Putting a conscious man over his shoulders was something he’d only

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ever done with the extremely injured and dying. He got the feeling
Anderson would do nothing but complain the entire time in that kind
of position. He could also try carrying him bridal style, but even so
much of that would leave Noir’s arms tired and useless after a while.

Perhaps over his back?
“Forget it. No way. That’s not happening,” Anderson said, as

though Noir had suggested the man eat roadkill or something.

“Then lean on me at least so we can walk together,” Noir said, fast

losing his patience.

Anderson wet his lips. Noir shouldn’t have noticed something like

that, considering the situation they were in, but there it was.

“Actually, I was thinking I might try something different. I know I

said my leg wouldn’t be good to walk on even in my wolf form, and it
won’t be, but even hobbling on three legs seems better than just doing
it on two.”

He supposed that made sense, even if he didn’t like the idea of

spending time with Anderson in his wolf form.

“You don’t like the idea,” Anderson said, sounding actually

disheartened by that.

“Well, of course I don’t. I’ve never so much as been introduced to

your wolf. What if it attacks me?”

Anderson frowned at him, as if Noir hadn’t just made a perfectly

legitimate point.

“My wolf is…well it’s hard to describe but it’s still me.”
“Only the wild animal version of you. I have seen you control

yourself in the time we have been together but I am not so eager to
test out your control over this other part of you.”

“It’s still me,” Anderson insisted. “I think differently and

everything’s more about senses and the now than anything beyond
that, if that makes sense, but I’m still in the driver’s seat. I won’t hurt
you.”

As if that would have been possible.
Anderson’s gentle touch against his face was both unexpected and

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startling. Noir fell back a step before he’d realized what had
happened.

“Sorry,” Anderson said quickly. “I won’t touch you if you don’t

want me to. Are you sure it wasn’t a werewolf that gave you your
scars?”

Noir rolled his eyes. “I couldn’t be any surer of that, but I have

always been taught that werewolves are dangerous creatures. You’ll
have to forgive me if I have trouble taking your word on this.”

Anderson sighed. “No, I get it. They are dangerous. I know this

more than a lot of people in this district, but I need you to know that I
would never hurt you, even in my wolf form. If anything, mating with
you would probably guarantee that.”

“I still do not like the idea,” Noir admitted. When he had been

training to become an assassin, hoping to impress enough that he
would be given hard missions and freed from slavery, there was hard
training that had to be done. Recruits were given tests to measure their
ability to perform tasks under high duress while still able to keep a
clear head and make decisions. Sometimes those tests consisted of
little more than sending out a recruit to make his or her first kill, or to
survive in the daylight without the protective suits the assassins wore,
or any clothing at all, using only what was on hand for cover. Noir
had passed that test by burying himself in the earth with a small hole
he’d dug with his hands.

Those that didn’t pass were either killed or put back in their slave

pens, if they were still able-bodied, to serve after the tests had
finished.

Even if they all passed their tests and went on to become full-

fledged assassins, they were still told by their instructors that they
would never be able to completely shut out the things that went on in
their heads. Some assassins snapped under the pressure after enough
years and close calls occurred. Others were found frozen with an
anxiety they had never before experienced, because there was
suddenly something presented to them that they feared.

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Noir was in that situation now. Anderson’s suggestion to

transform himself into his wolf had Noir’s fears coming to the surface
and blocking everything else out. He was so unused to the sensation
that his hands actually trembled under the strain.

Or maybe that was just the poison still working through him.
“Look, I know that vampires won’t like werewolves, but I

promise I won’t hurt you. What do I have to say to make you believe
me?”

“I am hardly concerned about your wolf harming me. I do not

want to be forced to put you down if you get out of hand.”

Anderson blinked stupidly at him. Noir could hardly believe he’d

allowed the confession to leave his mouth. His face felt hot, and he
began to worry that he was developing a fever from the poison that
was shutting down his body. He didn’t want to admit what it really
was.

Anderson was gentle when he cupped his face and kissed him.

Noir was taken aback by it, but he didn’t move. He’d just confessed
that he would kill Anderson in his wolf form if he got out of hand,
and yet the man was comforting him.

“I appreciate the concern, believe me I do. I can’t remember the

last time someone cared about me as much as you, but I can handle it.
In all the years I’ve been with my village, they’ve never even
suspected me of what I am. You won’t have to hurt me, and I won’t
hurt you.”

Noir inhaled deeply. He still didn’t like the idea, but they had

been standing still in the damp forest and there was still the possibility
that they were being followed. It was dangerous to keep talking about
this, and Noir just wanted to get this over with.

“Do what you have to do, but make it quick,” he said.
This was a test of both his patience and his heart, he just knew it,

and he wanted it to end.

Anderson stepped away from him, but he had a small smile on his

face. He was eager to do this. Noir’s fears were almost put at ease, but

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he would relax when the situation had passed and his paranoia proved
unfounded, and not a minute before.

“I have to get undressed. You think you can keep my clothes

dry?”

Noir continued to blush as he held out his hands and waited for

Anderson to fill them with his clothes. They were still warm, and he
folded his shirt and tied the sleeves in a way that allowed him to make
a bag out of it and carry the rest of the clothes easily. There was no
way any of it would fit into his other pockets, and he didn’t want to
stuff them full of anything that would get in the way of his knives.

“You can look at me, you know. You’ve seen me naked twice

before.”

Noir rolled his eyes and looked at the man. Then he wished he

hadn’t looked because he wanted to take him again.

He cleared his throat. “You look…nice,” he said, not sure what

Anderson wanted from him.

The other man had the audacity to laugh. “I’m not fishing for a

compliment. I just don’t want you to be so shy. I need to focus, so just
give me a minute.”

He still had that smile on his face when he closed his eyes. That

seemed like a good time for Noir to put a blade in his hand for when
the wolf came.

He’d seen many werewolves before, during his time as an assassin

for the Fenrir clan, but he’d never watched them transform before.
Watching the man he’d shared pleasure with turn into a monster was
an event.

His limbs stretched and grew, but not by a lot. Coarse white fur

replaced the hair on his arms and head, and his face stretched and
nose became dark.

Anderson fell forward onto his new paws. The shift was a fast

one, really. It was over in less than ten seconds, but it still took longer
than what Noir had been expecting. He always thought it would be an
instant transformation. It wasn’t. He’d expected the wolf to be larger

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and have more muscle on it than it did. It didn’t.

It was a wolf to be sure, but Noir suddenly felt incredibly foolish

for having the curved hunting blade in his hand.

The golden eyes didn’t give off the impression of anger or

madness. Noir stared into them, and all he saw was intelligence, and
caution.

He put away the blade and decided that wet knees would be worth

it to kneel down.

Noir put his hand out, and a long smile pulled up Anderson’s lips

as he trotted forward.

It was hardly like petting a dog. This was not a dog. It was a wolf,

and there was the mind of a man inside. “I suppose you will say you
told me so when this is over.”

Anderson released a happy bark, and Noir petted his soft ears.

* * * *


“Jesus Christ, that one just turned into a werewolf.”
Jack sounded like he was about to shit himself. Tom only saw

dollar signs, and he thought about how good he would look wearing
that nice white wolf pelt. It was a small wolf, but it could still be
done.

“Just relax. Look at it. It’s the one who was injured and it’s still

hobbling around.”

“It’s a werewolf,” Jack seethed. “It was different when it was just

one human and one vampire. Now we have a werewolf, too.”

“And think of how much its pelt is worth. The teeth alone could

buy you a day’s worth of food and oil.”

“Depends on how good the teeth are. The pelt doesn’t look that

great either,” Jack said, but he no longer sounded as panicked as
before. He was staring at their prey now with interest as the vampire
actually got down on to one knee and started to pet the damned wolf.

If a sight like that didn’t convince his brother that they still had

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the advantage, then he didn’t know what would.

“Let’s just keep our distance and keep quiet. The last thing we

want is for the wolf to sniff us out and let the vampire know we’re
close.”

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Chapter Ten


Anderson started to recognize the trees and the scent in the air by

noon. He was almost home, and he couldn’t have been more excited.
Getting into his wolf form had been a brilliant idea, and even though
he was still forced to favor his leg, it was smoother going on three
working legs rather than just one.

The only thing that Anderson was sorry for was that he and Noir

couldn’t continue to speak to each other while they were like this, and
even though he was now a wolf, Noir was still the protector of the
two.

Noir was as paranoid as ever as they travelled, and Anderson

knew what a man looked like when he was searching for something
that might be hunting him. Even when he wore a mask and goggles to
protect him from the sunlight.

Noir was still searching for something. He thought someone was

following them with the intent to hurt them. Anderson had stuck his
nose in the air a time or two in the hopes of finding anything out there
that was not a small animal, but he couldn’t smell anything other than
the pine trees.

And sweat. Noir was becoming worse by the minute, and even

though the man pushed himself, he was soon walking at a pace that
had matched Anderson’s when he’d been on two legs.

He wanted to tell him that they were almost there, and was just

about to get back into his human form to do just that when he heard a
twig snap in the distance.

He stopped and perked his ears. That had been close. Even Noir

had heard it because he had one of those sinister curved blades in his

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hand and was also searching for the source.

Anderson was not a strong wolf by any stretch of the imagination,

but he was still stronger in his other form than he was as a man. He
thought it best to stay as he was just in case there was something
hunting them, and with how careful and paranoid Noir had been on
the entire journey, he was scared.

There was actually something following them.
“You should run for your life. Hunters will show even less mercy

to you in that form,” Noir said through his mask. His voice was so
small and flat that Anderson had trouble hearing him, and they were
right beside each other. Then again, that might’ve been the point.

Anderson growled. He wished he could speak to Noir like this, but

he was not leaving for anything. He suddenly wished they hadn’t used
the last of that salve for lube, because now if one of them was injured
they had nothing to treat their wounds with.

Suddenly, Noir’s head craned to the side, as though he was

listening for something, then his entire body went stiff and he dropped
Anderson’s clothes. That couldn’t be a good sign.

“There’s too many of them. Run away. Go, now!”
Anderson waited a beat to make sure that Noir would be coming,

too, before he sprinted off. His hind leg throbbed with burning fire but
he stretched out his muscles and ran like the devil himself was on his
ass. Noir kept up with him fairly well, and it occurred to him that the
vampire might’ve been even purposely holding back on his speed just
to keep Anderson safe.

That thought only made him want to run faster, but there was only

so much he could do, even with fear as a motivator.

He’d seen what the hunters in his old village had done to the few

werewolves they’d caught. Back then he’d felt sorry for the poor
buggers, not so much after he’d been transformed, but Anderson
certainly didn’t want to be skinned alive for his pelt.

Something whizzed by his ear and plunked into the birch tree he

just passed. An arrow. Christ, the archers were out and they were

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shooting to kill.

Another arrow came. Anderson heard the twang of the bow’s wire

as well as the arrow that cut through the air with the intention of
piercing his heart.

There was a twang of metal on metal in the air behind him, and

Anderson spared a glance to see that Noir had pulled out one of his
larger blades, and the skilled bastard had somehow managed to
actually stop the arrow by swiping at it with his knife.

But even that took energy that the man hardly seemed to have

since the sudden turn and sweeping arc of his arm needed for such a
move threw him off balance.

Anderson skidded to a halt when Noir fell on his back and stayed

there. He couldn’t so much as paw at the man to try and get him back
on his feet since they were surrounded by hunters within the next two
seconds, all of whom were pointing their bows or guns at them.

Noir still didn’t move, and Anderson couldn’t see his face to

check if he’d passed out because of that stupid fucking mask.

They were being led by Hawke, and Anderson’s ears went back

and his tail curled between his legs.

Shit. Shit. Shit.
This was almost worse than being captured by other human

hunters, mercenaries, or even other vampires who were out for
revenge. These were the men of Anderson’s village.

“Is that a wolf with him?” Vaughn asked. For some reason he

wasn’t with the dogs today, and for that Anderson probably should be
grateful, otherwise they would have torn him and Noir apart by now.
As it was, Vaughn only stared at him with interest. Probably thinking
of ways he could tame him should Anderson be an actual wolf.

“Holy damn, I think it is,” James said.
“No way he domesticated a wolf. Look at it, it’s a coward but too

loyal to leave. Got to be a werewolf,” Carl said.

“How does that make any sense to you?” Hawke asked, though he

didn’t take his eyes away from Anderson as he knelt down. The lot of

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them had apparently decided that they’d captured their prey and could
relax a bit. “A domesticated dog would stay with its master. Why not
a wolf?”

Hawke looked to Vaughn for confirmation of this, but the other

man just shrugged. “Wolves and dogs are different. Can’t say the
same rules wouldn’t apply, but I don’t deal in wolves. The vampire
also dropped this bunch of clothes back there, so that might be a
person.”

“Whatever. Bring the vampire in. We can question him. If the

wolf tries to bite when I go near the vampire then make sure to put
him down before it can get its teeth in me. I don’t really feel like
turning into a werewolf today.”

Anderson couldn’t let them do this. Hawke was a good man and

so was his father, Brian, the man in charge of the village and
everyone’s safety. They would still torture Noir if they believed he
could give them some insight on what was happening with the
vampire clans.

Noir had said he’d met Hawke before, and that he respected him,

but this was too much. Anderson couldn’t leave Noir’s safety to
chance based on a ten-minute meeting the two men had over Will’s
unconscious body.

He prayed that he wouldn’t regret this, and that he wouldn’t be put

in the interrogation chair either, but they had to know that Noir wasn’t
a threat.

Praying that they wouldn’t shoot him as he changed, Anderson let

the white hairs on his body shed away as his bones rearranged
themselves and he shifted back into a naked man.

The gasps that went through the group were disheartening.

Anderson could barely look at any of them in the face now that he
was standing there, shivering and naked.

The only person he did look at was Vaughn, however. “You don’t

have my clothes that he dropped, do you?”

Vaughn wordlessly pulled the zipper down from the bag at his hip

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and pulled out the bundle. All the while he never took his wide eyes
away from Anderson’s face or closed his mouth.

He tossed Anderson the pile of clothes, and Anderson gratefully

and quickly stepped into them. Even though he knew these men, the
idea wasn’t lost on him that some of them were still pointing their
crossbows and guns at him and Noir. Mostly at him. He didn’t want to
get shot while he was struggling to get his shirt over his head, so he
dressed as fast as possible.

At least when he was wearing decent, if somewhat dirty, clothes,

then it was easier for them to remember that he was still their friend.

“Jesus Christ, Anderson,” Hawke said, and then he stepped

forward. He glanced behind him to the other men in the group. Carl
and Dorian were the youngest, and they damn near looked ready to
piss themselves, which only made Anderson even more nervous for
his safety.

Shaking fingers on triggers was never a good thing.
Luckily, when Hawke raised his hand to them, a gesture they

knew well, their basic training kicked in and they lowered their
weapons.

Hawke’s voice turned hard when he looked back at Anderson.

“When did this happen?”

Anderson shrugged helplessly, wishing he was better with words

so that he could make the man understand. “I’ve been this way since
before coming to the village. I came from the werewolf district,
remember?”

“I remember,” Hawke said with a barely noticeable nod. He then

looked down at Noir. “Do I want to know who this is?”

The only thing that kept Anderson from rushing forward and

throwing his body over Noir to protect him was the knowledge that
the men in front of him would shoot him, friend or not, if he made any
sudden movements. He was forced to watch as Hawke approached
Noir and knelt down. He kept a knife in his hand, but he also kept the
blade pointed back, and he looked more like he was just examining

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the vampire rather than getting ready to cut his throat.

“That’s Noir. You know him, sort of, he said. He’s not

dangerous.” Not right now, he added mentally.

When Hawke’s face shot up. “That vampire?”
“Vampire?” Dorian asked. The guy took a step back, his face

twisting in disgust as he stared down at Noir’s body. To his credit, he
didn’t lift his bow back up and shoot Noir in the chest, however.

Maybe having Will in the village had opened his mind a little, but

Anderson still wasn’t going to risk leaving Noir alone around him. He
also hadn’t forgotten that Noir was still sick and needed Will’s
healing powers.

“He’s very sick,” Anderson said.
“I can see that.” Hawke had put his knife back in its holder and

had lifted Noir’s mask just enough to get a look at his face, angling
his body to keep any direct sunlight from touching him.

Anderson wished he could see him. His feet twitched to go over

there and look for himself, but he stayed where he was.

“How does he look?” he asked instead.
“Like shit,” Hawke replied, folding the mask back down and

hiding Noir’s face once more. “What happened to him? Was he
stabbed anywhere?”

Of course the natural assumption for what was ailing a vampire

would be blood loss, but the dark suit Noir wore made it difficult for
Hawke to see that there was no blood leaking out of him.

“Poisoned. His clan did it when he refused to tell them where our

village is. He needs Will’s help,” Anderson said.

Hawke looked up at him, his blue eyes wide but still questioning,

and Anderson’s heart thumped loudly in his chest while he waited for
the answer. It was enough to make him actually feel queasy.

Hawke sighed long and loud before rising to his feet. “I guess it’s

not like he doesn’t know where our village is anyway.”

“Wait, we’re taking him with us?” Dorian asked. He stared at

Hawke like the man had lost his mind.

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Most people knew that Dorian looked up to Hawke with

something akin to hero worship, and they also knew that Dorian had
no family because of the vampire slavers who’d taken his parents.
This must be a shock to him, to suddenly have so many vampires
coming into a human village. The same went for James. A year ago
his lover Josh had been murdered by vampires, though he was at least
appearing less skittish about bringing another one to the property.

Anderson would have felt sorry for them both under any other

circumstance, but he was too busy wishing to get this show on the
road so he could see to Noir’s health.

“I’ve been letting him drink my blood so he can fight whatever he

was poisoned with,” Anderson said, not knowing why, but in case that
information might be helpful when Hawke told Will the details about
this. “You don’t have to take me with you either if you don’t want a
werewolf on the property, but please, just hurry and let Will look at
him.”

“Why do you care so much?” Hawke asked, but he was already

lifting Noir’s arm and hoisting the vampire onto his back.

Dorian just couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “Hawke, no, seriously,

you can’t do this. What if that vampire has a tracker or something on
him? He could have brainwashed Anderson with their lust spells or
whatever they are, and there could be more vampires following us.”

“He’s my mate,” Anderson snapped, hoping that would shut

Dorian up. The younger man only glared back at him.

“Hawke,” Anderson said.
“You don’t have to keep begging, Anderson, I’m taking him,” he

said, then his mouth twisted through his short black beard as he
adjusted the weight on his back. “Thank God it isn’t far.”

Hawke turned to the men with him and sent the older ones, James

and Oliver, out to search the perimeter in case there was anything else
out there. Then he and the others began walking back toward the
village. Dorian looked the most unhappy of the lot of them.

“What about me?” Anderson asked, his heart still heavy as he

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watched a group of humans walk away with Noir. He was faced with
the unknown here in so many different ways, and that was more
terrifying than his kidnapping and journey home had been.

“Of course you’re coming with us,” Hawke said, glancing at him

over his shoulder, but he kept on walking. “Christ, the only reason we
came out here was because we were looking for you.”

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Chapter Eleven


Noir opened his eyes and saw a light in his face, and then he

panicked and shot up.

Something restrained him. “Easy. Easy!”
Of course he was not easy. He fought harder, then more hands

came to hold him down.

He screamed against the light in his eyes. His body tingled with a

cooling sensation, something he’d felt once before after receiving a
burn from sunlight. The nerves in the body did strange things when
they were trying to protect one from pain.

He was burning! They were burning him!
“Will someone shut off that fucking lamp?”
The light was extinguished, and blessed darkness filled the room.

Only then did his embarrassment become complete as he realized that
he was not only not burning, but had made a complete fool out of
himself as well. He, a trained assassin and one of the best in the Fenrir
house, had lost his head and panicked.

Wonderful.
The cooling sensation throughout his body did not vanish,

however. It continued on, and now that the spots had cleared from his
vision, he could see why.

William Delany stood above him. His amber eyes were hard with

concentration, and his hands were glowing a light blue as he held
them over Noir’s exposed chest.

Even though he was naked with nothing but a bed sheet to cover

his dick and balls, he wasn’t thinking about where his clothes and
weapons had gone. Now that he had the chance to be lulled by the

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healing spell that was working its way through him, all he could think
about was that Will’s sand-blond hair had been longer the last time
he’d seen the man.

He’d gotten it cut.
The man then sighed with exhaustion, and the dim light from his

hands went out as he fell back a step. Hawke was there, Noir realized,
and the man caught his lover before he could stumble any more.

“That’s the best I can do for now. I think it’s all gone, but I should

keep on treating him to be safe.”

“You’ll do that later then,” Hawke said.
Noir half expected the man in his arms to be insulted at having

been told what to do like that. William Delany was from a noble
house of vampires after all.

It shocked him when the man just smiled and gripped Hawke’s

hand for comfort instead.

“Where am I?” Noir asked. He expected his throat to be sore and

his voice to come out rough, but he sounded healthy. William’s
healing magic really had worked a wonder on him.

“Back at my father’s village,” Hawke said, and he stared down at

Noir with a sort of smug amusement that Noir didn’t particularly
enjoy. “I honestly didn’t think I’d be seeing you again.”

“Neither did I,” Noir replied, glaring a little at him. He tested his

body out by sitting up. There was no pain or nausea from the sudden
movement.

“I take it from the look on your face that you feel better?” Hawke

asked.

“Much,” Noir replied. “Thank you,” he said, directing that one to

William, and he bowed his head a little to at least show some sort of
respect in this strange situation.

William blushed a little, as though uncomfortable with either the

praise or the small bow, but he nodded anyway. “Any time.”

Well, he was a younger son. That could explain his discomfort

with shows of respect.

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“I wasn’t able to do anything about your scars, though. I’m sorry

about that.”

Noir lifted his hand to touch his face. There they were. He could

feel them, as deep and hideous as always.

“Any idea what you were poisoned with?” Hawke asked.
“No,” Noir said, and he began looking around the room as the

sudden feeling of emptiness came onto him, but he didn’t see the man
he was searching for.

It was just Hawke, William, and another young human woman

who was still puttering around with sheets and bowls of water. The
assistant in all of this.

“Whatever it was, it was slow going,” William said, turning back

to Noir. “Whoever poisoned you wanted you to die slowly, that’s for
sure.”

“I should thank them later for choosing such a poison since I

would not be alive had they picked something quicker,” he said.
“Where is Anderson?” He tried to get up, but when he shifted to do
just that, there was a clink of metal on metal, and his ankle felt
restrained.

Noir grabbed the sheets and snapped them away from his feet, and

indeed, he was chained to the steel-frame bedpost.

He glared up at his rescuers. “Now I understand why I don’t have

my weapons.”

“Can you blame us?” Hawke asked, lifting a brow at him.
“No, but I will if you hurt Anderson,” Noir said, and just for good

measure, he showed the human his fangs. He made sure to angle his
head so that it was only Hawke who saw them, and not William.

Hawke continued to stare at him, as though he was studying him.

“Anderson said the two of you were mated. Didn’t know if I believed
him at the time. I thought all vampires and werewolves hated each
other.”

“As you have clearly seen, he is not a normal werewolf.”
“Right,” Hawke said, though he still sounded somewhat

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conflicted.

“Should we let him out to get dressed?” William asked, looking at

his lover. “Then he can go and see Anderson.”

“Where is he?” Noir asked. William was also a vampire, but his

lips didn’t curl as he spoke about Anderson, meaning that Noir might
just find some sympathy here.

“In one of the barns,” he said. Then he looked away from Noir

and scratched the back of his neck. “He’s, uh, being restrained.”

An image of how William looked restrained in a barn during the

rescue mission Noir had been sent on flashed in front of his mind, and
he glared at Hawke, his muscles bunching as he got ready to break his
chains and attack.

Hawke put his hands up. “Don’t look at me like that. He’s fine,

but there are some people in the village who weren’t comfortable with
having an extra vampire and a werewolf on the property. He agreed to
be chained. He even helped me do it. He’s being watched by my
father. No one’s going to hurt him until we can sort this all out.”

“So you have the intention of hurting him after everything is

sorted then? Lovely.”

Hawke’s entire body went stiff. “No! I didn’t mean it like…”
He trailed off, clearly having trouble putting his thoughts into

words, which was a strange thing for Noir to see since he had always
assumed the man was skilled in every aspect of his life. A talented
hunter and assassin as well as a wordsmith of sorts. It turned out he
was just a man.

William was the one to sigh and rescue his lover. “We’re all

friends with Anderson. He’s been nothing but good to me since I got
here. We’ll take you to see him so you can both talk. Right, Hawke?”

“Right,” the man said.

* * * *


Noir ran to Anderson the minute he laid his eyes on him. The man

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was hardly hanging from the rafters as he’d feared. Instead there was
a large shackle placed around his neck like a collar, and even though
the end of it was indeed bolted to one of the rafters high above his
head, there was more than enough slack on the chain itself that it still
dragged on the floor when he walked, and he had lots of room to walk
around in the empty barn so long as he didn’t get the damned thing
tangled on something.

He had a cot to sleep in, and it looked like someone had brought

in a nightstand, a lamp powered by solar batteries, and some books.
He didn’t appear to be starved and hurt, but his eyes lit up all the
same like it was Christmas morning when Noir walked in, and he ran
to him.

No one had ever run to Noir with open arms before. Usually they

ran the other way with their arms flailing in panic as they were about
to die, so he was thrown off for only a second.

Then his body hit Noir right in the chest, and he found himself

with Anderson hugging him tightly, like his life depended on it.

“Jesus Christ, I’m so happy to see you,” Anderson said. His voice

was only a little muffled as he pressed himself against the white T-
shirt that Noir was borrowing. He hadn’t been given back his
assassin’s uniform or any of his weapons, and he’d felt naked without
them until now.

Maybe he’d only felt naked without Anderson.
He thought he would milk this a little. It wasn’t often when

someone admitted to worrying about Noir’s safety, and he was pretty
sure this was the first time when they’d meant it. “Worried for me,
were you?” he asked, and then put his fingers through Anderson’s soft
hair. They were letting him bathe, too. That was good. So long as he
wasn’t being mistreated in any way, then perhaps Noir could forgive
for the shameful collar that was around his throat.

“Of course I was! I haven’t seen you in two days!”
“Two days?” Noir hadn’t asked how long he’d been unconscious

for, and had assumed it to have only been hours.

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“Yeah.” Anderson pulled away just enough to get a look at him,

but their bodies were still close enough to share warmth. “Will
worked on you almost nonstop from the time you got in, but there was
a vote, and I was put in here. People have started to warm up to Will
because of his healing powers, but I’ve been lying about what I was
for years, and most of the villagers are afraid.”

“Then they’re fools,” Noir said, and he cupped Anderson’s cheek

and brought him closer for a kiss.

He’d meant it to be chaste, and had even pulled away, but when

Anderson looked at him with those hopeful, happy eyes of his, Noir
couldn’t help but come forth again for something more. Then they did
it again, and again, until their mouths stayed together and they were
gripping each other as though terrified of being separated.

Noir realized that it was the truth. He was frightened of being

pulled away from Anderson, and of being banished from this village
and forced to leave without him.

Anderson’s tongue reached out and traced along the crease

between Noir’s lips, making him shiver and his cock harden, when
someone cleared their throat behind him.

They separated, and only then did Noir recall that they had an

audience.

Brian, the village leader, and his son were both standing by the

open barn doors, moonlight spilling in behind them. Noir could hardly
understand how he’d forgotten they were there. Hawke had escorted
him to the barn, for God’s sakes.

This was more than a simple mating. Noir had strong feelings for

Anderson, and his heart hammered at the thought of him being hurt,
and his mind also forgot about things when it came to his safety.

Good God, he loved him.
Noir cleared his throat and straightened. He fell back into his

training that allowed him to mask his emotions, hiding what he felt
behind cold indifference. “I would like this chain removed from his
neck. Now, if you please.”

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Both men shifted uncomfortably, and they glanced at each other.

Though they didn’t look much alike, they were definitely father and
son.

“We’d like to,” Hawke said. “Anderson, you know I don’t want to

keep you like that for much longer, right?”

Anderson nodded. He still trusted these people enough to put him

in chains, and be complacent enough to stay in them when asked, it
seemed. “I know.”

“It’s degrading,” Noir said, recalling the times he’d spent in

chains when he’d been a slave.

“I know, Noir. You know that I know,” Hawke said, his eyes

becoming hard as he scowled. “But it’s not up to me.”

Anderson took Noir by the hand, and that small touch was enough

to jolt Noir’s attention back to him. “The village is going to vote
again on what to do, but Brian told me himself he won’t let anyone try
to hurt me.”

“There are a few people in the village who are more frightened of

werewolves than vampires,” Brian said. “But I’ve made it clear that
after all of this is settled, the harshest they can vote on is banishment.
I won’t let anyone try to do anything to him for information he
doesn’t have, or scare him with threats of death.”

“You run this village, but you let the people vote. Do you even

have the power to take decisions away from them like that?”

“I have power enough around here,” Brian said.
“The only reason why he’s even still chained is because we have

men who are still out there looking for signs that you were leading
others here. Dorian found a trail. Someone was definitely following
you.”

Noir sighed. “You will not like this, but I suspected as much. I

believe they were humans hired by the vampire clans after they lost
most of their own assassins.” He looked at Hawke at that one, and the
man nodded. He remembered well enough about that day, it seemed.

“Anderson told us it was humans who took him, but I almost

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didn’t believe him,” Brian said. “Guess a vampire wouldn’t have any
reason to lie about that either. Shit.”

“This can make for some serious problems if other humans are

willing to sell out their own,” Hawke said, and he rubbed his bearded
face with both hands. “Goddammit.”

“I will leave as soon as possible to keep them away from your

village. I do not want Anderson to be put in any danger,” Noir said.

“Thanks for caring about the rest of us,” Hawke said, though there

was nothing in his voice or on his face to suggest he’d been insulted.

“I’m sure you can take care of everything here.”
“I want to go with you,” Anderson said. “You can’t just leave

without me.”

“Why not?” Noir asked.
That seemed to throw off Anderson quite a bit. “Well, I guess you

can handle yourself and everything, but I thought, since we were
mated…”

Noir knew what he thought, and though he was touched by the

other man’s concern, they couldn’t have the both of them on the run.

“You will stay here. Your village might threaten it, but I doubt the

people here will try to seriously harm you, or cast you out. You have
been here for years, long enough that they know you by now and they
know you are not a monster.”

“But I want to be with you,” Anderson said.
In all honesty, Noir couldn’t understand why that was.
“I will stay until I am convinced that your village will not harm

you, and that will be the last we will speak of it.”

Noir looked away, feigning a cold attitude. He had to. If he had to

keep on looking at Anderson while he made such sad faces, then there
would be no way Noir would resist him.

This was why it was frowned upon for assassins to have anything

more than a quick romp in bed with some nameless partner. Anything
more was bound to cause problems such as these, and it created new
loyalties where there should only be one. To the family that was being

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served.

Brian cleared his throat and shifted on his feet. “Well, not that this

isn’t awkward enough, but―”

He was cut off by a commotion outside. There was yelling and the

sound of a scuffle, and Noir was instinctively drawn to it, as were the
rest of the men.

“Stay here,” Noir said to Anderson without thinking.
“I’m chained to the ceiling, you jerk,” Anderson said as Noir,

Brian, and Hawke walked quickly over to the source of the
disturbance.

They opened the door to see one of the mercenaries that Noir had

released outside, keeping the other villagers at bay by swinging a
large blade around.

The man had no grace and was panicking entirely too much. That

was the trouble with mercenaries. One could never tell if they were
hiring an expert, or just someone who’d handled knives a little more
than the average farmer.

It was clear by the cut ropes on his hands how he’d gotten here.

He’d been captured while wandering around the village, had escaped
his bonds, and was now making a poor attempt to flee the scene.

His eyes landed on Noir, and they widened. “You!”
Noir nearly fell back a step. How did this human know what he

looked like? Noir had kept his―

Then it occurred to him. He and Anderson really had been

followed, and it was entirely likely that at some point this man and
whatever accomplices he’d been with had seen him without his mask,
and making love with Anderson.

His face colored at the thought, but the mercenary stomped closer

to him, the knife in his hand, suddenly forgetting about the other
guards and worried farmers that had been surrounding him.

“I’m going to kill you!”
From the sound of it, a man might think that Noir had gone out of

his way to make this stupid fellow’s life miserable. That wasn’t good.

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The people of this village could take this all sorts of ways, which
meant that Noir needed to keep this man alive to be questioned later.

He knew exactly what to do as the enraged and frightened merc

approached him, and he knew exactly where to put his hands to keep
the blade from cutting into his skin, or accidentally into the human.

He didn’t get the chance to put any of his plans into motion when

an arrow pierced right through the man’s heart and chest. The look of
surprise on the young man’s face would have been comical any other
time but now. He fell to his knees, much the same way dying men
always did, and Noir was left with nothing to do but watch as he fell
dead onto his face.

A human with a bow and arrow stood behind the dead merc, and it

was clear that he had been the one to kill him.

By the way he put another arrow against his bow string and pulled

back, pointing the weapon at Noir, it was also clear that he wasn’t
done killing just yet.

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Chapter Twelve


Anderson had a lot of slack from the chain he was shackled to, but

he could still only move so much around the empty barn. He could
still hear well enough from the distance the three men had gone off in,
and it was clear there was a scuffle. There was also a lot of yelling on
Hawke’s part, and Anderson could smell blood.

He couldn’t help himself. He was weak and needy and all those

things and he didn’t care if it was all pathetic because it was true, and
he shouted out Noir’s name, hoping against hope that it wasn’t his
blood that Anderson was smelling out there. He didn’t have very good
wolf senses when it came to things like this, so the only way it was
possible that Anderson even could smell it would be if the blood was
close, and there was a lot.

“Noir! Noir!” he yelled some more when there was no immediate

answer.

The doors to the barn had only been partially shut, but they were

kicked open again by an angry villager. Anderson liked to think he
got on well with the people of the village, even though he kept mostly
to himself, what with his condition and all, so it was a shock for him
when Robert, one of the nicest men in the whole village came rushing
in pointing his finger at Anderson.

Anderson was just glad that he wasn’t pointing a gun or a

crossbow at him instead.

“You brought them here, you fucking traitor!” he yelled.
Hawke was right behind him. Maybe that was the reason why

Anderson wasn’t panicking as the very large and very angry man
came stomping up to him.

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Hawke wrapped his arms around Robert’s shoulders and, even

though the man was a bit larger than Hawke and had more muscle on
him, took him down, pinning him onto his stomach and twisting his
arm behind his back. The move locked the other man in place and
kept him from trying anything else.

Robert grunted and shifted, but Hawke knew how to keep people

still when he wanted to.

“What’s going on? Where’s Noir?” Anderson demanded.
Hawke either didn’t hear him, or he was a little too preoccupied

with his new prisoner to answer. “Listen! We know Anderson! He
didn’t lead mercs to our village. He didn’t!”

“You don’t know that!” Robert yelled, and he turned his enraged

eyes onto Anderson. The man really looked like he would strangle
Anderson if given the chance. He was one of the mechanics in the
village, so he had the strength to do it. “They’re all coming for us now
and you led them here!”

“I was just trying to get back home!” Anderson yelled in his

defense. He kept looking back up to the doors, however, searching for
any trace of his mate.

“Hawke, where is he?”
“Being guarded by my father and mother,” Hawke said, then he

grunted and pushed himself off of Robert. “The villagers didn’t get
the chance to do anything, and Robert here was the only one to
overreact. Isn’t that right?”

Robert stood up, glaring back at Hawke and rubbing his shoulder.

“I have family here. My wife is pregnant again, and you bringing Will
here was one thing, he can help with things like that, but now we have
a werewolf and another vampire. An assassin to top it all off. You
can’t expect this’ll fly.”

“I expect it to, and I also expect you will be on your best behavior

while my father speaks with the other elders and the village votes.”
Hawke’s glare was always so much meaner than anything the other
villagers could produce. That might’ve had something to do with the

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fact that he was so good at hunting and killing, and everyone in the
village knew it. The fear Hawke inspired in people came from the
knowledge of what he was capable of as much as it came from the
look itself.

Robert shook his head and muttered about what a mistake it was

to be letting so many paranormals onto the land, but the son of the
man in charge, and the leader of the village hunters, had spoken.
Robert had been dismissed, and so he left, but it was hardly with his
tail between his legs.

Hawke must have felt the need to explain when Robert was gone.

“We found two men slinking around the village shortly after bringing
you and Noir around. One was killed when we tried to bring him in,
and the other, well, he just made an escape attempt, and now he’s
dead.”

Anderson didn’t care about that. Well, he did. It was great that the

village was still hidden and safe, but he wanted to hear about Noir.
“What did you mean when you said Noir was being guarded by your
mother and father? Aren’t you afraid he’ll try something? Hurt
them?” Anderson asked. He needed to know where he and Noir stood
in this.

Hawke sighed. “Look, you’ve been around long enough that I

know you wouldn’t try and hurt anyone in this village. You would’ve
done that by now, infected everyone here or something. But you
didn’t. I don’t know how you’re able to control yourself so well, but I
don’t need to know. Even if Noir did have something to do with the
mercs coming here, you certainly didn’t.”

“Does that mean I can take the chains off now?”
Hawke grinned at what they both knew he couldn’t do. “Not yet.

We’ll wait for the go-ahead from my dad, but honestly, it should be
here soon.”

“Before or after they decide what to do with Noir?”
“Anderson.” Hawke pulled up a stool and sat on it. Anderson was

quick to notice how the man didn’t even worry about whether or not

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he’d placed it within reach of Anderson’s claws. He really did trust
him. “Even if it’s voted on to torture him for information, or kill him,
he’s a trained assassin. He wouldn’t let a bunch of humans hurt him if
he didn’t want to.”

“He’s still sick. There’s always something that you could do,”

Anderson said. He was shocked at the biting tone he released, because
he’d never felt this angry over anything, or this protective over
anyone. It was new and it was frightening.

“Will was fairly sure that all the poison was removed, but he will

be treating him once more just to make sure,” Hawke said, then he
rubbed his hand through his hair, messing it up and making it stick
out. “I would have thought he was guilty for sure if he’d been the one
to kill that merc before we had the chance to question him. He didn’t,
so I can’t blame him for trying to hide something from us. I’ll make
sure that the rest of the people in the village realize that.”

“Wait, you’re going to defend him?” Because Anderson was still

standing, he felt the incredible urge to fall on his ass, so he did. The
bundle of clean hay he landed in did nothing to shield his ass from the
impact, but he just couldn’t believe it.

Hawke had a single eyebrow lifted at him. “Wow, that was a bit

much. Is it really that hard to believe?”

“Well, he’s a vampire assassin, and he did kidnap Will,”

Anderson said.

“He did that under orders,” Hawke said, though his lips twisted in

a way that suggested he still wasn’t much of a fan of Noir’s for that
one. “I can hardly blame him for that, and he did decide to give him
back, rather than let the both of us kill ourselves and him over it. I
guess I feel that I owe him.”

This was good. This was very good. Suddenly everything didn’t

seem quite as grim as it had not too long ago. “You’ll tell them that,
too, then, right? That he helped you and did the right thing when he
didn’t have to?”

Hawke nodded. “Right.”

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“He’s also started drinking animal blood. I don’t know what he’s

been drinking really, but I know he went out hunting for it when he
was helping me get back, so you can tell the rest of the village that
they won’t have to worry about him looking at their necks.”

“That’s good,” Hawke said. “It shows his willingness to get off of

human blood.”

“He has been drinking some of mine though,” Anderson admitted.

He didn’t want that to get out later and bite him in the ass, so he
figured it was best to just tell Hawke about it now so they could do
something with that information.

Hawke frowned. “That’s not preferable, but if I play on the fact

that you’re a werewolf then it might not seem as bad as all that to the
others. No offense,” Hawk said.

“None taken.”
“He didn’t take your blood by force, though, did he?” Hawke

asked that last one carefully, as though worried about the answer he
would get.

“Of course not!” Anderson said, insulted on Noir’s behalf.
Hawke raised his hands. “All right. All right. Sorry, I just had to

check so that I could give the right answer if anyone asked.”

“Will I be there when the vote is held?” Anderson asked.
The way Hawke pursed his lips didn’t bode well for the answer

Anderson was about to get.

“No. The people have pretty much decided that, whether you

knew it or not, you were still an accomplice and they’re not too
comfortable with the idea of a werewolf and a vampire being in the
same barn together when the vote is held. They don’t even want Will
in there either, just in case, but the trial and the vote will be held
during the daylight hours, so I can’t say that one bothers me too
much.”

Of course it wouldn’t. Hawke would want to keep his lover safe,

after all.

“When will I know what’s happened with him?” Anderson asked.

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Hawke bit his lips together. “When I come and get you

tomorrow.”

Anderson didn’t get the chance to ask what Hawke meant by that

because the other man had gotten to his feet and was moving toward
the barn doors.

Anderson watched him go, stupidly. His mind wouldn’t produce

anything other than the scenario in which Noir would be forced to
leave the village, and Anderson would still be chained here, unable to
follow him because the vampire wouldn’t want him to come along
anyway.

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Chapter Thirteen


Anderson waited all through the night, sitting on the

uncomfortable cot with his head in his hands. It was dark in the barn,
but it hadn’t been made to house vampires, so he could tell when
dawn had come by the thin threads of light that seeped through the
cracks in the wood. It was the only way he was able to measure time.

He watched them brighten and stretch across the barn, and then

vanish as dusk finally arrived, and still no one came for him to tell
him whether Noir would be allowed to stay, forced to leave, or if an
angry villager had decided to take matters into his own hands and kill
him outright, regardless of what Brian or the village elders decided.

He still had bread and water left over from last night, but he didn’t

touch it. He wasn’t hungry. All he wanted was his mate. He wanted
Noir.

Finally, when it had just become so dark in the barn that he had to

turn on the lamp on the nightstand to be able to see, the heavy door
creaked open just a little, and then shut once more.

Anderson looked up, and his heart fluttered at the sight of Noir,

wearing his assassin’s uniform and stepping closer to Anderson.

“Jesus Christ I was starting to think the worst,” Anderson said. He

didn’t care what the villagers had voted on, banishment or allowing
him to stay, so long as he was alive and here to take Anderson with
him.

“Do you have the key to this collar? Can you let me out?” he

asked.

“I do,” Noir said, and he produced the key from one of his many

pockets, walked over to where Anderson eagerly waited for him, and

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then let him out.

Anderson threw his arms around Noir’s shoulders and held onto

him as tightly as he could. “Fuck. I thought…everyone was gone for
so long and no one came. I thought for sure they were going to…”
Anderson trailed off. He couldn’t even come close to saying what it
was that he thought because his eyes were already starting to tear up.

“They do not want me dead. Hawke spoke very highly of me. He

can be very persuasive when he wants to be,” Noir said.

“Remind me to thank him later,” Anderson said. He pulled back

just enough to get a look at Noir’s face, and he couldn’t help the big
stupid grin that was no doubt pulling on his lips as he pulled Noir
close and kissed his scarred mouth.

Noir accepted the kiss, but he did not return it. That was Noir’s

hint that something was off.

He pulled back, staring into Noir’s dual-colored eyes and

wondering what it was he was missing. “What’s wrong? What did
they decide to do?” he asked.

Noir sighed and took hold of his wrists, though he did not push

Anderson away. It was almost like he was torn between holding
Anderson close, and pushing him away. “They will allow me to stay,
under the condition that Hawke will keep a close eye on me. I will be
working alongside him, hunting other mercenaries who would
threaten this village, or vampires who would come to claim the
humans for their blood slaves.”

“That’s good,” Anderson said, then realized that Noir’s expression

hadn’t changed. “Isn’t it?”

“Anderson,” Noir started.
Anderson panicked again. He knew the prelude to bad news when

he heard it, and he was about to hear something that he wouldn’t like
and he wanted no part of it. “No. Whatever you’re about to say, no. I
want you to stay here with me.”

“You mated with me by accident, and you yourself admitted that

you are not a true werewolf, in the normal sense of the word. Perhaps

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In Bed with the Vampire Assassin

109

if I was gone, you could take someone else as your mate, be free from
a connection to a vampire that you despise.”

“I don’t despise you!”
“That wasn’t what I meant. It’s my kind you despise.”
“I don’t despise them either. You and Will are just fine to me.

Why would you think I’d want you to leave?”

“I would not leave the village. I owe Hawke my life and I would

not wish to leave your safety to chance. I would simply not return to
you. The humans would not see me on a day-to-day basis.”

“Where will you live?” Anderson had to at least know that much.
Noir shrugged. “I could build something small to house myself. I

don’t need much.”

Noir didn’t need Anderson either, apparently. “It’s that easy for

you to just decide you don’t want to be with me?” he asked, despair
rolling inside of his gut. For the first time in his life, he felt his inner
wolf howl in anguish.

Maybe it wasn’t even about what Noir thought Anderson wanted.

This could easily be the man’s way of trying to get out of here
without hurting Anderson’s feelings too much.

If that was the man’s plan, then it wasn’t working. “You just don’t

want to be tied down to a village of humans?”

“Something like that, yes,” Noir admitted.
Anderson swallowed, and it felt like he’d just let a hard rock slide

down his throat. “Is it…me? My leg? You don’t want to be stuck with
a cripple, is that it?”

He became more and more angry the more he spoke, and his

words were less about self-pity and more accusing with every passing
second.

“What? Of course not! You are hardly a cripple for having a bad

knee.”

“Then what is it then? Tell me why you want to leave without

me?”

Noir’s face twisted and he looked away. “I could easily demand

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the same of you,” he said, and Anderson didn’t understand what he
was talking about until he spoke next. “You would call yourself a
cripple and accuse me of not wanting to be with you, but would you
really wish to be the reason why a dangerous vampire and former
assassin was on the land of the people you care so much about? Look
at my face, Anderson,” Noir said, and he actually pointed at his scars
with his thumb, as though Anderson could have forgotten them. “Tell
me this is something you would wish to see beside you every morning
and night for the rest of your life. Would you really feel no regret over
something as ugly as this?”

“That’s what this is about? You think I wouldn’t want to be with

you because of your scars?” It was so ridiculously stupid that
Anderson was struck dumb for a moment.

Noir just glared at him, as though Anderson’s disbelief was

unfounded.

“I want to hit you right now. I really do,” Anderson said. “After

everything we’ve been through, and after I spent all night worrying
about you, you’re going to try and leave me behind because you got it
in your head that I think you’re ugly.”

“I am ugly,” Noir said. The worst part about the declaration was

that it wasn’t shouted or said with any kind of pity or anger, but more
like Noir was resigned to being the way he was.

“No, you’re really not. Don’t roll your eyes at me. I’m being

serious.” Anderson reached up and touched Noir’s rough and scarred
cheek. “I can’t lie and say they make you super handsome or anything
like that. They don’t, but there is something about them that does
make you attractive, or maybe that’s just you. If Will were to come in
here right now and say he could heal your scars away, I wouldn’t
want him to because then you wouldn’t look like you.”

“He did try, apparently, and he failed,” Noir said, turning his head

so that Anderson’s hand fell away.

“You never struck me as the kind of guy who cared about what he

looked like,” Anderson said, trying not to clench his hand into a fist

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In Bed with the Vampire Assassin

111

after it had been rejected.

“I have never cared about what anyone thought of my looks

before.”

Anderson took in a deep breath. This had to end. They couldn’t

keep dancing around each other like this. “If you want to go, then go.
I don’t know why you bothered coming in here to tell me this. You
could’ve just saved us both the trouble and let someone else deliver
the message.”

Noir’s eyes flashed at the tone that Anderson used, but otherwise

he kept his calm. “Anderson, you make me sound heartless in this―”

“Because you are!” Anderson yelled. “Just go away if you don’t

want to be with me. Live out in the woods and hunt and kill other
vampires and mercenaries for all I care. Just leave me alone!”

Anderson wanted him gone so that he could break down and

mourn what he’d just lost. He wanted to destroy anything that wasn’t
nailed down in this barn, too. He couldn’t do any of those things with
Noir standing there staring at him.

The other man pursed his lips together. Red actually colored his

cheeks, and it made Anderson wonder where he’d gotten the blood
from. Unless he drank that much animal blood already.

The sick thing was that a small part of him hoped that his anger

would somehow cause Noir to snap out of whatever it was that was
making him do this and kiss him or something, but he was trying to be
realistic about this.

They hadn’t known each other for that long. Anderson was a

werewolf and Noir was a vampire, and though they had been forced
together, it was ridiculous to assume that Noir would want something
with him after all the danger had passed.

They were attracted to each other and the danger of their situation

had made them act on their impulses. Clearly that was all it had been.

Of course Noir didn’t kiss him. He clenched his fists, turned

around, and walked back to the barn doors.

Anderson let his knees give out the second the doors were shut.

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Thankfully, he’d managed to back up enough that the cot was behind
him, and he didn’t fall on his ass in a bank of hay.

He tried to sit up straight and keep his breathing normal, but there

was a weight on his back that he couldn’t shake off. It pushed him
down. The inside of his chest hurt, it really did. He’d had a broken
heart a time or two in his life, but this was different. There was a
physical pain in his chest that spread like a disease. It infected his
lungs, making it difficult to breathe, and it burned behind his eyes and
made his head throb.

The mating had been accidental, and he hadn’t known Noir that

long. Jesus Christ, why did he love that man so much? Why was it
destroying him that Noir wanted to end it?

He thought he might curl up there around his pain and maybe let

himself cry until he fell asleep when the heavy barn doors groaned as
they were slammed open and shut.

Of course it wouldn’t have been Hawke or Brian, or anyone else

with a shoulder and a sympathetic ear for Anderson to hold onto
while he lost his mind over something like this.

Noir rushed back into the barn, his fists still clenched, and

something in his step that suggested he was on a mission.

“I can’t do this,” he said before falling to his knees and wrapping

his arms around Anderson’s shoulders in a tight hug.

Anderson froze, but just having Noir there was like having the

best magical salve for the burning in his chest. Of course, even the
best medicines still stung, and Anderson was torn between wanting to
push Noir away to keep from being hurt again, and holding him tight
and preventing him from ever walking out like that.

He sucked up the pain and settled for the latter. “What are you

doing?” he asked, and then he rubbed his wet face on Noir’s shoulder.
He doubted it, but he kind of hoped the tears would ruin the uniform.
It would serve the bastard right, at any rate.

“It hurts me to be away from you, but it hurts me less to be with

you. If that makes any sense at all,” Noir said.

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In Bed with the Vampire Assassin

113

Anderson barked out a laugh. “I was just thinking the same thing.”
“I will hurt you,” Noir said. He held Anderson tighter when the

words came out of his mouth, but it wasn’t a threat. He seemed to be
warning Anderson. “I can never change who or what I am. I am an
assassin by trade. One day I will be killed in battle, and if you have
not left me before then, I am sure your mating thing along with my
death will bring you pain.”

“As much pain as you trying to leave on purpose?” Anderson

asked. Maybe that was what that pain had been that he’d felt. Maybe
he was just in love with Noir and couldn’t stand the thought of being
without him.

“More so than that. Death is permanent. Not even the best mages

can bring a man back from the dead.”

Anderson couldn’t tell if he was just being a smartass with that

one.

“Just so long as you don’t mind me slowing you down. I’d love to

be able to follow you in battle, but even if I had perfect health and
didn’t have a bad knee, I’m still a giant coward.” He chuckled at that
last part, trying to lighten the mood as much as possible, considering
it looked like he might be getting his happy ending after all.

Noir pulled away a little to look at him. His expression was soft as

he cupped Anderson’s cheek, which was something Anderson
couldn’t recall ever seeing on him before. He didn’t look the same
when he was anything but fierce, but Anderson decided he liked this
side of Noir as well. “You are no coward. You are one of the bravest
men I have ever met. You certainly kept me alive when I needed
you,” he said.

“I’ll do more than that, too,” Anderson said right before he cupped

his hands behind Noir’s neck and pulled him forward for a kiss.

Noir’s lips were just a little chapped from the time he’d spent

recovering, and Anderson could just bet that he didn’t look like any
prize worth having either, but it was the sweetest kiss he’d ever had in
his entire life. Noir put one hand behind his head and the other on

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Anderson’s cheek, holding him closer as their lips came together
again and again. It was perfect, just like in the romance novels Felicia
would loan him to read.

He pressed his tongue to the crease of Noir’s mouth, half

expecting some kind of battle for dominance at that point, but Noir
opened for him without any fuss. He moaned when Anderson pressed
his tongue inside, and he pushed his body closer.

Anderson felt Noir’s erection through both of their clothing, and

he could also smell the musk rolling off the both of them in waves.

Anderson was free from his shackles, but they were spending the

night in this barn, it seemed.

“Take your clothes off. Mark me. Fuck me,” Anderson said,

breathless between kisses.

Noir was excellent at following orders. Maybe that was all a part

of his training as an assassin. A guy had to be good at thinking on his
own as well as taking orders to survive that kind of job.

Noir quickly began pulling at the buttons and zippers on his black

uniform. Anderson didn’t know where the mask was, but he thought it
would be better to ask about that one at a later time as he struggled
with the button of his jeans and began pulling off his sweater.

Of course, the stupid thing had to make his hair all static-y when

he got the thing off, and his hair stood up as each strand was infused
with electricity. Trying to push it back down only made it worse.

Noir’s eyes widened at the sight, and he laughed.
Anderson couldn’t help it. He was on a roller coaster of emotions,

they were both nearly naked and horny, and suddenly everything did
seem pretty funny.

“Don’t get used to the look,” Anderson warned. “I’m not keeping

it.”

Noir’s hands came up, attempting to smooth down the frizz. “You

are beautiful no matter what your hair looks like.”

No one had ever called him beautiful before, and Anderson

blushed. “You’re pretty good looking yourself.”

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In Bed with the Vampire Assassin

115

Noir frowned at him.
“I’m not lying,” Anderson said. His erection was slowly wilting

away under the lack of attention, but Anderson wanted to get this out
of the way. “You don’t believe me, but clearly I find you physically
attractive.”

“And I am still debating what the level of your mental health is for

that one.”

Anderson rolled his eyes. “No, really, you don’t look like Hawke,

Dorian, or Oliver.”

Who?” Noir actually bristled a little as Anderson named some of

the handsome and available men in the village.

He continued on before the other man could change his mind

about this whole thing and storm off.

“But your scars do give you a dangerous, sexy sort of appeal,” he

said, and to show him that he meant it, Anderson cupped his cheek,
letting his thumb trail over the deepest scar that ran through his lips.

Noir shivered at the touch. “You should not say such things. You

will give me ideas.”

“That’s what I want,” Anderson said, and he kept his touch on

Noir’s sides gentle as he pulled him up onto the cot, but then he
started to slide off of it.

“Where are you going?” Noir asked with a lifted brow as he found

himself lying back with Anderson on his knees.

“I want to suck your cock. I don’t think we’ve done that yet.”
Noir shivered again, his eyes widening only a little before they

returned to neutral.

One day, Anderson swore he was going to get Noir to open up to

him completely so that he would feel comfortable showing this side of
himself to another person.

One day at a time and a journey starts with one step and all that.

They would get there.

“Well, I certainly will not stop you if you’re feeling adventurous.”
Anderson laughed. Noir was still wearing his pants, so he got to

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work on getting the buckle and buttons to the fly completely undone
while he smiled. “I can’t wait to do this for you. I’m going to make
you feel so good.”

Anderson had seen Noir’s dick before, but that had been before he

had the intention of putting it into his mouth. He’d always just looked
down and caught a quick glimpse of it before Noir would take it in
hand and press the blunt tip against Anderson’s asshole.

Now that it was up close and personal, Anderson was really able

to fully admire it.

It was thick, long, and cut. Something he’d already known

because it had been inside of him, but again, seeing it and feeling it
were two different things. The head was a darker color than the base,
and there was a pearl-like drop building at the slit.

Anderson hadn’t given too many of these in his life, but of the

partners he’d had, they had all seemed to enjoy when he touched his
tongue to that spot, so that was exactly what he did.

Anderson relished the shiver that passed through Noir’s body, and

he wrapped his hand around the base, letting his thumb play with the
little slit of flesh that was just beneath the head and connected to the
rest of his cock.

Noir’s legs spread wider and his hips shifted, pushing up and

trying to drive himself deeper into Anderson’s throat.

“I like that. Keep doing that,” he said, his voice sounding very

much like he’d been out running.

Anderson liked this. He had a trained assassin on his back, legs

spread and open to him, and trembling like he needed Anderson more
than air.

It definitely gave his ego a boost. There was always something

empowering about bringing this kind of reaction out of a lover, but
nothing had ever been as satisfying as this.

Anderson relaxed his throat, praying that he wouldn’t gag, and

sank down farther. His hands quickly went to Noir’s hips to prevent
him from thrusting forward again. Otherwise he knew he wouldn’t be

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In Bed with the Vampire Assassin

117

able to keep this up for much longer.

Noir took the hint, and Anderson was able to get used to the

sensation of having a man so far down his throat. He bobbed his head
in slow motions, sucking and licking and enjoying the bitter taste of
Noir’s pre-cum and skin.

Noir couldn’t stop gasping, and Anderson looked up to see that

he’d arched his back and was gripping the cot like it was a lifeline.

“Your mouth…so warm and…ugh!”
Another shiver passed through him, and Anderson felt Noir’s cock

stiffen just in time for him to pull back enough that when Noir came
with a shout, Anderson didn’t choke on it.

He swallowed Noir down to the best of his ability, and was

actually pleased with himself that he’d been able to do it so smoothly.
Noir slumped back on the cot, gasping and boneless. He ran a hand
through his hair and sighed before looking down.

Anderson had only just let the man’s cock pop out of his mouth,

and he smiled back. “I like seeing you like that,” he said. “I’ll have to
do that to you more often.”

“You will get no complaints out of me, but you will have to give

me a minute to recover before we can proceed.”

Anderson clutched his hands over his heart. “A whole minute? I

don’t know how I’ll ever survive.”

Anderson got to see something else then that was a first. He got to

see a lewd smirk on Noir’s face as he sat up and reached for him.
Again, their positions were switched, and Anderson found himself on
his hands and knees, his jeans pulled all the way down to his knees,
wondering just what it was that Noir was going to do to him.

He’d only been joking about the minute thing. That was fast even

by a vampire’s stamina, but he didn’t understand―

A violent shiver rippled up his skin and forced its way through his

throat in the form of a loud moan when he felt the touch of Noir’s
tongue against his asshole.

Anderson gripped the steel frame of the cot and tried to push back

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against it, but it moved away. “Do that again! For God’s sake, do that
again!”

Anderson looked over his shoulder. Noir still had him by the hips,

and if ever there was a proper sight for the description of the cat who
got the cream, that was it.

“I’m sure I can keep you entertained until we can move onto

better things,” he said, and in a move that would be forever burned
into Anderson’s memory, he bent down and vanished from sight,
pressing his face and tongue back against Anderson’s pucker.

He groaned and held onto the cot just a little tighter. He thought

he felt the metal warp between his fingers, but that couldn’t be right.
He was a werewolf and everything, but he wasn’t strong enough to do
something like that.

“I don’t know,” he said through a groan, and it took everything he

had just to keep from pushing back against the intruding tongue. No
one had ever done this to him before, and it was probably the greatest
thing Anderson had ever felt. “This might be the best thing you can
do to me all night,” he said, stretching out the word night so that it
sounded like niiiiiight, after Noir’s chuckle sent vibrations through his
asshole and made him shiver and buck against the pleasure.

“You are an evil tease,” Anderson accused, and then he stopped

complaining about that as he began thrusting lazily back against
Noir’s mouth, gradually picking up speed as he moved.

There was no rush to get to the actual sex part. They had all night

to do this, what with not having to worry about killers potentially
following them through the forest and all.

They had all night, and they had the rest of their lives.

* * * *


They held each other close for body heat when they finished

satisfying each other. They were sweaty and sticky, but Anderson
wouldn’t have had it any other way.

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In Bed with the Vampire Assassin

119

“The village will no longer be moving on,” Noir told him, as he

stroked some of Anderson’s hair out of his face and behind his ear.
“Your village leader no longer thinks that is a wise move now that
other humans are part of the main concern.”

Anderson nodded. “And you and Hawke will be leading the

hunters to go out and protect the village I guess?”

He didn’t have to guess it. Noir had already told him, but even if

he hadn’t, Anderson would have been able to figure it out. There was
no way Brian would want Noir’s skills to go to waste and simply let
him become a farmhand.

Noir nodded. “It was also suggested that I teach the others about

how the assassins move and work. How they prepare and what sort of
equipment they carry. Hawke has already been able to figure out
some of this for himself based on what he was able to take from the
bodies of the other assassins I came with the first time, but more help
will be needed, and I have offered to provide it.”

“You sure it doesn’t bother you that you have to do this?”

Anderson asked, turning a little so he could look up at his lover.

That soft expression came back onto Noir’s face, and again, he

stroked the back of Anderson’s head. Maybe it was only because of
the werewolf thing that he enjoyed that so much.

“I would do whatever it takes to keep you safe, and I won’t have

the villagers here accusing either of us of withholding information
that could be valuable to their safety or yours. You mated with me. I
am yours forever.”

Anderson knew a declaration of love when he heard it, and he

held Noir tight. “I love you. I guess it should’ve been obvious, but I’ll
do whatever I can to keep you safe, too.”

He would start by making sure that Noir moved in with him

instead of going off to build himself a little shack for the daylight
hours, or whatever it was he had planned, and in the morning he
would go about his chores and do his best to earn the trust of the
village again. This was his home, and he was going to make sure that

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Noir never regretted staying here with him.

Noir smiled, stroking his hair one more time and leaning forward

for another soft kiss. “There’s no one I would rather have at my back
than you.”


THE END

WWW.MARCYJACKS.COM

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR



Marcy Jacks lives and works in Ontario, Canada, where she is

fervently pursuing the writer’s life while writing about lots of
gorgeous guys. She loves hearing from readers and you can reach her
at authormarcyjacks@gmail.com.


For all titles by Marcy Jacks, please visit

www.bookstrand.com/marcy-jacks

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Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com




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