Dark Reign 3: Atonement

Mychael Black

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Dark Reign 3: Atonement

Mychael Black

Is pack leader Marcus Deleon ready for war? He better be.

Marcus Deleon has spent most of his life saving his fellow weres from the hands of
his ex-lover, the vampire Dalton Gray. Now he’s facing an all-out war after one of his
Enforcers kills several of Gray’s guards. The allies he has to rely on can be counted
on one hand until unexpected help arrives, bearing the fragile body of an injured
were-child and inside knowledge into Gray’s operations.

Prologue

“Please… mister…”

Jordan Silva struggled to follow orders: guard, don’t speak. The raspy little voice

in the cramped cage behind him twisted his gut with every whisper, though, and

Jordan knew it was only a matter of time before he cracked. He’d been beaten years ago

for being kind to a prisoner, but this one… she was different. He’d never seen one so

young in the compound.

“Sir, water?”

Eyes squeezed shut, Jordan fought like hell to look like he was the hardened

monster he was expected to be. Dalton Gray surveyed each cage, smirking and

nodding, appraising each captive like some sort of macabre auctioneer. When Gray

reached Jordan and the cage him, he scowled.

“Puny. Kill it.”

A strangled whimper sounded from behind Jordan, but he simply nodded. Gray

moved on and two more guards, one holding a shock collar made of steel, dragged the

young female were out of her cell. Dirty, hair tangled, clothes torn, she looked no more

than eight years old. Once the collar locked around her slender throat, the guards

handed her off to Jordan. He watched them walk away, following behind Gray as the

man rounded a corner and disappeared from sight.

This had to stop.

Jordan turned to his frightened prisoner and lowered his voice enough for only

her sensitive ears. “I’m getting you out, but you have to pretend for me, okay?” She

nodded. “Fight me. Kick. Scream like you know you’re going to die. I promise you, it

ends today.”

With a tug on the chain attached to the collar, he started down the hallway. The

girl started crying and screaming incoherently, jerking and fighting for all she was

worth. He finally stopped and grabbed her, pinning her flailing arms to her sides before

ducking into a dark alcove.

“Shh.” He eased his hold. “We have to give them time to think we’re gone.”

“Why?” she whispered.

“Because they’ll kill us both now if they find us.”

He waited several minutes, then peered around the corner. The hallway

stretched out on either side, empty and quiet. Doors lined the inner walls in each

direction, and the only way out he knew of lay in the direction from which they’d

escaped. Shit.

Jordan edged along the wall, the girl remaining silent as Death itself behind him.

At first, the captures were what Gray called “culling the herd” of weres in the city.

Jordan had never liked it, but Gray lorded over him with the threat of truth if Jordan

ever spoke a word of what went on in the compound.

Confident they were still alone, Jordan tried one of the doors and found it

unlocked. He had no idea where it led, but given that the compound’s underground

system ran like a maze, he held out hope of some kind of exit. He locked the door

behind them, then turned when the girl tugged on his hand.

Jordan froze in shock. “Oh, my God.”

Stainless steel tables dominated the room, each one holding a mass of fur, blood,

and gore. Jordan held the girl tight to him, blocking her view of the carnage. “What are

they doing?”

“Testing.”

Jordan spun around, the girl’s arms clenching him around the waist. “Who are

you?”

A figure stepped from the shadows in a cage on the far wall. “One of the unlucky

ones.” The man gestured to the tables. “He’s searching for weaknesses, experimenting

with ways to kill us. The others, they died quickly.”

“What about you?”

The man, in much the same state as Jordan’s companion, lifted his tattered shirt.

Fresh scars dotted his torso. Beneath the skin, Jordan made out shapes. “Capsules,” the

man said. “They dissolve in the body, releasing some kind of liquid silver alloy

engineered to kill slowly.”

Jordan swallowed. He started to ask why the man hadn’t torn them out with his

claws, but when the were lowered his shirt, Jordan realized why. The fingernails had

been ripped from the tips of the prisoner’s fingers, leaving bloodied, fleshy lumps.

“I have to get her out of here. Can you walk?”

“Too late for me,” the man said. “Find Deleon. He can help. Maybe she can live

free.”

Chapter One

Jordan winced with the impact, but he didn’t struggle against the werewolf’s

grip around his throat. The man tightened the hold, claws threatening to pierce Jordan’s

skin.

From one set of captors into the hands of another. “Deleon. I need to speak to

Deleon!” Jordan had expected a cold reception, but he hadn’t realized just how strong

the wolves were.

“Who are you?”

Despite the hand at his neck, Jordan glanced over to his right. A tall, muscular

figure stepped out of the shadows. His long coat obscured his body. When the hood fell

back, Jordan could only stare. He’d seen many werewolves in his lifetime, but none

quite matched the allure of the man before him.

Jet black hair fell over broad shoulders, and the sharp features of the man’s face

held no flaws whatsoever. Where Jordan was slim and lithe, this man was nothing but

pure muscle. Jesus…

“He asked you a question,” the brute with the iron fist growled, snapping

Jordan’s attention back to the matter at hand. “Answer or…”

“Release him, Vaughn.”

“Of course.” The brute -- Vaughn, apparently -- stepped back, letting Jordan fall

to his knees on the filthy alley pavement.

“You are not one of us.” The man in the coat crouched down before Jordan. “You

are one of them.”

“Jordan Silva.” Jordan coughed. He glared at Vaughn, then looked back to the

man before him. “I was told to find Deleon.”

“Why?”

Jordan gestured to the rusted door a few feet farther down the alley. Vaughn

headed for the door and jerked it open. Jordan looked back at the man in front of him.

“I was told Deleon could help her.”

“Marcus!”

The man -- Marcus -- stood and joined Vaughn. A moment later, they emerged

from the doorway, the young girl in Vaughn’s arms. Jordan prayed the man was gentle

with her. Marcus returned to Jordan, surprising Jordan by offering him a hand up.

“Come with us.”

“What? Marcus, he’s a vampire!” Vaughn snapped, shooting Jordan a scowl that

would’ve curdled a human’s blood.

“Take her home, Vaughn. Tia will look after her.”

Vaughn snorted but obeyed without further question. Marcus sighed.

“You must forgive him. He has a strong dislike for your kind.”

“After what I’ve seen, I would too,” Jordan said.

Marcus lifted one dark eyebrow. “Why did you leave Gray? Why risk your life

for one of ours?”

Jordan stared at a point over Marcus’ shoulder. “Working for Gray wasn’t

exactly by choice. I was ordered to kill her, but I couldn’t. I need to speak to Deleon.”

“Come. I’m sure he will very much like to hear what you have to say.”

Jordan followed Marcus a short distance to a sprawling house surrounded by a

tall security fence. Marcus keyed in a series of numbers on the keypad, and the gate

unlocked. Jordan didn’t see any sign of Vaughn or the girl, and he hoped to the gods

she was okay now.

“The others will not take well to a vampire being in our midst,” Marcus warned

as he led the way up a long driveway. “So long as you stay with me, you will be safe,

however.”

The front door looming before them opened and Jordan stepped in behind

Marcus. The house felt deathly still. Jordan knew the wolves watched him from

shadows. Marcus continued down a hall and stopped before another door. He opened it

and waved Jordan inside.

“I really need to see Deleon.”

Marcus sat behind a dark wood desk, feet propped on the edge, chair tipped

back. “So speak.”

Jordan sat down, mouth dropping open. “You…” Marcus nodded. “I know this

is all suspicious, but I’m here to help.”

“Why would a vampire -- one of Dalton’s vampires -- help us?” Marcus stood,

his chair hitting the floor with a loud bang. Hands braced on the desk, he leaned over

and glared at Jordan. “Your kind has done nothing but treat us as slaves. Gray has

stolen our people, killed countless others. What the fuck do you want?”

“I know what he’s doing,” Jordan answered. “And I know where.”

Marcus’ dark blue eyes narrowed. “What’s in it for you?”

“Redemption.”

“Why?”

Jordan sighed. “My life before was not a pleasant one. Suffice it to say, I have

done terrible things of which I am not proud. I don’t ask for forgiveness, only the

chance to atone for my actions.”

“Wait here.” Without waiting for a response, Marcus walked out, leaving Jordan

alone.

* * *

“Do you really believe his story?”

From behind a one-way mirror, Marcus watched his new “house guest” pace in

the office. Nothing about Jordan Silva struck Marcus as untrustworthy, especially since

the vampire had arrived bearing a young female.

“I don’t know yet.”

Vaughn huffed. “He’s a vampire. Not just any vampire, but one of Gray’s. We

can’t trust him, Marcus.”

“If he’s working for Gray, why bring the young one to us?”

“To gain your trust?”

Marcus glanced at his friend, a part of him praying Vaughn was wrong.

“Something else is going on. I can feel it.”

“Maybe I’m just paranoid,” Vaughn said. “You know my track record with

Gray.”

Marcus groaned. It was Vaughn’s actions which had led them to this point in the

first place. Still, Marcus didn’t blame the man. Vaughn had done it to save his mate.

“Leave us. I’m going to see what he can tell me. We’ll go from there.”

Without giving Vaughn a chance to argue, Marcus left. He waited a moment for

Vaughn to leave the observation room before entering the office once more. Jordan

watched him with a hint of wariness. If anything, it helped to settle Marcus’ nerves,

knowing the vampire didn’t completely trust them either.

Jordan continued to pace, stopping only occasionally to meet Marcus’ gaze. “You

obviously know what happens to the kidnapped weres. They’re not allowed interaction

and thus never learn to shift properly. But there’s more.”

“Like what?”

“Dalton is testing out ways to kill you -- weres, I mean. He’s using some of the

prisoners for this purpose.” Jordan dropped down onto the couch across from Marcus.

“He’s developing capsules containing a silver alloy. The catch is that the capsules are

durable enough to be shot into the body from a gun, or forced into the body via other

methods.”

Marcus didn’t like where this was headed. “Go on.”

“The capsules are made to dissolve in the body, releasing the alloy over time. In

essence, a slow, painful death.”

“You realize you can’t return.”

Jordan nodded. “It was a chance I had to take. I’ve seen too much and not done

enough to stop it. Let me help.”

“Why should I trust you?”

“I honestly have no answer to that,” Jordan said.

The admission surprised Marcus. Maybe Jordan was proof not all vampires were

like Dalton. “I can ensure you are safe here, but you must not leave the house. I don’t

even recommend leaving this wing of it, lest one of the others decides to take revenge.

You may not be Gray, but you worked for him and you are a vampire. My kind isn’t too

trusting of yours.”

“Understood.”

“What about feeding? How often do you need it?”

“Every few days. I can go as long as a week without it, but nothing beyond that.”

Marcus weighed his options and realized he really had none worth pursuing.

“What I am about to propose must not go beyond this office.”

“Okay…”

He stood and approached Jordan. Holding out his arm, he said, “Feed -- but only

from me.”

Jordan stared at Marcus’ wrist, then up at his face. “Are you certain?”

“It is the only choice we have at the moment. I will not risk the lives of my

people, nor will I risk yours needlessly.”

Marcus waited patiently, watching Jordan’s internal struggle flash over the

man’s face. Resignation finally settled and Jordan gripped Marcus’ hand. The contact

felt far more intimate than Marcus wanted to admit, and he braced himself for the bite

itself. It had been a long time since he’d done this. Jordan’s breath warmed his skin.

Marcus remembered, with startling clarity, exactly what a vampire’s bite entailed the

second sharp fangs pierced his flesh.

Heat rushed through his body. The pleasurable pain pooled in his groin and

threatened to make itself known. He fought like hell to hide the effects, telling himself it

was only the bite and the feeding which led to his arousal. He wasn’t about to admit

that the primary culprit was the vampire sucking on his wrist.

* * *

Jordan swallowed every mouthful, a moan escaping his throat. Marcus Deleon

smelled of pure alpha male: musky, strong, a hint of spice -- and arousal. Dear fucking

God, the man’s blood screamed at Jordan to do more than feed. Hunger sated, he licked

the wound closed but found himself unable to pull away. He flicked his tongue along

Marcus’ pulse point, eliciting a stifled gasp from the man towering above him.

“Jordan.”

Jordan looked up and froze, seconds before Marcus’ mouth crushed his own. The

were pinned Jordan to the couch. Jordan had no choice but to relinquish all control.

Marcus might be gentle with his pack, but Jordan quickly discovered the man’s true

alpha nature behind closed doors. Marcus fisted a hand in Jordan’s long hair and

tugged his head back hard. Jordan hissed and clawed at Marcus’ back as the were bit

and kissed a path along his neck.

A knee wedged between Jordan’s thighs, pressing tight against his cock and

balls. He grunted and bucked, and Marcus pushed harder. Jordan ceased caring what

the man thought and let himself go. He ground himself along Marcus’ leg, body jerking

with every nip from Marcus’ teeth. Then the world flipped and Jordan landed on the

floor, the impact momentarily shocking him motionless. Marcus attacked his mouth

again while working Jordan’s jeans open. A warm palm met hot flesh and Jordan

shouted, back arching as spunk spilled over the tight fist gripping his cock.

Marcus groaned and shuddered above him, nuzzling Jordan’s neck for a moment

before pulling away. Jordan watched, utterly entranced, as the were licked his fingers

clean. “Not a word to anyone.”

* * *

After finding Jordan a room near his own, safely tucked away from the others,

Marcus collapsed onto his bed and stared at the ceiling. What the hell had he done?

“You’re an idiot, Deleon,” he muttered.

A vampire. He’d fed -- no, fed and nearly fucked -- a vampire. He despised their

kind, yet Jordan Silva somehow worked around his defenses. Marcus didn’t know what

bothered him more: Jordan’s connection to Dalton, or the fact they’d literally just met

and he wanted the man with more conviction than sense. If anyone found out, Marcus

knew he’d have a lot of explaining to do, especially to those who’d lost loved ones to

Dalton’s depravities.

“Marcus?”

“Come in, Tia.”

Tia Brooks slipped into his room, shutting the door softly behind her. “The

young one is settled. She knows she’s safe now, though the nightmares are going to

continue for a long time.”

Marcus nodded. “Thanks.”

“What’s wrong?” At Marcus’ blank expression, Tia chuckled and sat on the floor

beside his bed. She rested her chin on the mattress and brushed his hair from his face.

“You’ve been a brother to me all my life. I know when something is going on with

you.”

“You’re too damn good at this,” Marcus grumbled. “How do you know it’s

anyone in particular, anyway?”

“Lucky guess. That vampire who brought our newest family member home?”

Marcus groaned, eyes closing. “What am I going to do, Tia? After Dalton, I swore

I would never let someone get to me -- especially a vampire.”

“Dalton is a monster, Marcus, but they aren’t all like him. You know it goes the

same for us. Not all of our kind are compassionate like you. Some are truly wicked and

feral, and never retain a shred of humanity.”

“Jordan Silva is a vampire.”

“He’s also gorgeous,” Tia said. “And I know you can’t deny that.”

Marcus had to stop himself from licking his lips at the mere thought. Jordan Silva

made him ache for things he’d long since given up. The vampire’s youthful face held a

touch of knowledge gained only through age. He was old, older than Marcus even; the

evidence reflected in blue-gray eyes haunted by a shadowy past. Unlike many of his

kind, though, Jordan dressed in everyday clothing of the humans, and he kept his dark

brown hair short yet brushing his shirt collar. Simply put, Jordan Silva was an enigma

the likes of which Marcus had never encountered before, and he had the sex appeal to

distract Marcus at every damned turn.

“Earth to Marcus.”

“Hm?”

“God, you’ve got it bad.” She laughed.

“Okay, yes, he’s fucking hot. Happy?”

Tia smirked, one eyebrow lifting. “Hardly. Whether you like it or not, whether

you believe in it or not, I think you just met your match -- the single exception to your

personal rule.”

“What the hell are you trying to say?”

She stood and patted him on the head with something between affection and

patronization. “Love at first sight.”

Marcus snorted. “I think not!”

Tia left him, her laughter echoing down the hall. Bitch.

Marcus stretched, the urge to shift and run strong. He hadn’t dared to do any

such thing since Vaughn’s foray into Dalton’s compound to rescue Elian, but the wolf

could only wait so long before the need became uncontrollable. His muscles ached, but

Marcus knew shifting right now, in his room, would be like poking a caged animal.

Maybe if he slipped away, just enough to prowl the mansion’s outer perimeter…

The wolf didn’t wait for a final decision. Marcus rolled off the bed and landed on

all fours. The change came fast, leaving his clothes in tatters. Damn it, he liked those

pants. He yawned and sat back on his haunches for a moment. Faint sounds from other

rooms filtered in, scents of females and males, many enjoying one another’s company in

varying combinations. One scent hit him strong, though. A strange smell in this place,

but one which lured Marcus out of his room before he even realized he’d moved.

He stalked the dark hallway and stopped before a door a short distance from his

own. Ears twitching, breath warming the wood, he drew in the sounds and aroma of

male arousal. Not wolf… not human…

* * *

Jordan spread his legs wider, his left hand brushing the upper part of his inner

thigh. He groaned and tipped his head back further. The fingers of his right hand

tightened around his cock, pumping, squeezing. God, what he wouldn’t give to taste

the man. Just a single lick, just a drop of Deleon’s come was all he needed. Hissing,

Jordan stroked faster and harder.

He wet two fingers and plunged them into his ass, grunting as he imagined they

were Marcus’. The edge teased him but remained out of reach. Jordan growled. His

fangs descended, and he flicked his tongue over one. Blood seeped from the tiny cut,

but it couldn’t compare to what he’d had just a few hours before. The flavor bore the

smallest hint of Marcus, enough to give Jordan the push he craved. His hips jerked

upward and then he froze, panting, as spunk covered his fist and stomach. He’d barely

collapsed onto the bed once more when a low growl rumbled behind his closed door.

He cleaned up with his shirt, tossed it aside, and pulled his jeans back on. The

threat of whatever waited outside his door lessened as he neared it. He knew that scent.

“Marcus?”

Jordan opened the door and stumbled backward, away from the biggest fucking

wolf he’d ever seen. Its eyes held intelligence and familiarity, and it stalked Jordan until

the backs of his legs bumped the bed. He glanced at the open door, then back at the

wolf. “Um… door?”

The wolf seemed to nod and Jordan edged around it, not quite taking his

attention off of it. Marcus or no, the creature could easily tear Jordan into shreds within

seconds. Jordan locked the door and returned to the bed. He studied the wolf, just as

the animal studied him.

“Can you understand me?”

The wolf -- Marcus -- nodded once.

“You didn’t come here to talk, did you?”

Razor sharp, white teeth filled what could only have been a smile. Jordan

swallowed. Apparently his little moment of gratification hadn’t gone unnoticed. He

reached out and stroked Marcus’ muzzle, only to jerk his hand back when the wolf’s

face changed shape. Not a man, not an animal, Marcus remained in half-shifted form.

“You have one chance to tell me no.”

Jordan shuddered at the deep timbre of Marcus’ voice. “Not gonna happen.”

Marcus snarled and leaped onto the bed. He pinned Jordan down and forced

himself between Jordan’s legs. “How did you do it?” he growled. “How the fuck did

you get to me?”

Unsure of how to answer -- or even if he should -- Jordan hooked his legs around

the backs of Marcus’. He tugged the were down onto him and thrust his own hips up.

His cock strained against his jeans zipper, and he wasn’t exactly surprised to feel

answering hardness above him. He rocked against Marcus.

Marcus’ mouth came down on his, the were’s tongue demanding entrance.

Jordan gave up all pretense of struggle -- if there ever had been one. He sucked on

Marcus’ tongue, swiping his own across it, tasting. Marcus deliberately flicked one fang

and rich blood filled the kiss. Jordan moaned and drank every drop he could get.

One hand wedged between them, and Marcus stripped off Jordan’s jeans. He

thought he heard denim rip, but then Marcus bit down on the side of his neck and

nothing else mattered.

“Fuck!” Jordan grunted and pushed against Marcus, trying desperately to get his

jeans the rest of the way off. Marcus kissed a path down Jordan’s neck and chest, sliding

lower out of reach. “Please…”

“Over.”

With little regard for formalities, it seemed, Marcus flipped Jordan onto his

stomach. Strong hands pried Jordan’s cheeks apart, and he bit the pillow to keep from

shouting when Marcus’ tongue pierced his body. He’d been rimmed many times, but

this was different. Marcus wasn’t the foreplay type, a fact further cemented into

Jordan’s mind when two long fingers plunged into his ass.

“Oh, God…” Jordan rocked back, driving Marcus’ fingers deeper. The burn felt

exquisite, the stretch unlike anything else. Christ, it hadn’t been that long since he’d

gotten laid, had it?

Marcus slicked up Jordan’s hole with spit, fingers pumping in and out. Jordan

gripped his own cock and began stroking. His head and chest pressed to the bed, he

had little warning before Marcus’ thick cock filled him in the space of a breath. Jordan

panted and squeezed his eyes shut against the sharp pain. Were all werewolves this

fucking huge?

“Stop.” Marcus reached down and covered Jordan’s hand with his. They rose up

until Jordan sat on Marcus’ cock, the sensation of fullness unbelievable. Marcus brushed

Jordan’s hand away and resumed the strokes himself. “If you want me, if you want this,

you must accept all of it,” he whispered in Jordan’s ear, “the man and the wolf.”

Jordan didn’t know whether to nod or whimper. He’d do anything so long as

Marcus kept moving. “Anything. Please.”

“I want your blood,” Marcus murmured on the sensitive skin of Jordan’s neck.

Jordan tipped his head more in answer, and Marcus bit down. A wolf’s bite felt

nothing like a vampire’s, Jordan quickly realized. He shouted, come spilling over

Marcus’ fist as the were’s teeth sank into his throat. A deep-seated growl vibrated

through Jordan’s neck as Marcus drew in mouthful after mouthful. Marcus’ arm

tightened around Jordan’s waist, and the hand on his still-hard cock sped up, pumping

faster. Just as the world began to turn hazy, just when Jordan thought the were would

drain him dry, Marcus tore away and howled. The hard-muscled body behind him

jerked, and Jordan moaned as the cock in his ass swelled, filling him.

Jordan barely felt Marcus withdraw, and then the were lay down, pulling Jordan

with him. Head on Marcus’ chest, Jordan was just about asleep when Marcus spoke, the

words sending a chill through Jordan’s body. “You made him.”

Chapter Two

“They won’t be expecting a direct assault.”

One eyebrow lifted, Vaughn looking less than convinced. “Are you out of your

mind? They have us outnumbered, Marcus.”

Marcus sighed and managed to force his mind more on the impending attack

than on the vampire still sleeping downstairs. “If we move in at dawn, they will be

vulnerable. Trust me. Dalton and his vampires won’t know what hit them.”

“What about our newest… ally?” Geoff asked. “What does he have to add to this

crazy idea?”

“Nothing,” Marcus snapped. He glanced up at his two best Enforcers. Vaughn

glared at him, and despite being blind in his human form, Geoff seemed to be doing the

same. “I promised Silva protection from Gray and our kind, but beyond that, I have no

use for him.”

“Am I interrupting?”

Marcus spun around to see the man of the hour leaning against the doorframe.

Shit. “No. We were just wrapping things up.”

“So what’s the plan then?” Jordan asked without moving. Everything about his

stance -- from his crossed arms to the firm set of his jaw -- told Marcus the man had

heard every word.

“You will stay here, under tight lock and key -- for your safety as well as the

others. We will take care of the rest.”

“And when Dalton is dead?”

Marcus caught Vaughn’s wary gaze shifting between the two of them. “Then we

will release you, provided you don’t do anything stupid.”

“I see.” Jordan started to turn but stopped. Glancing over his shoulder, he met

Marcus’ look with an icy one of his own. “I’ll make damn sure to stay out of your way

then.”

“What was that about?” Geoff asked when Jordan moved out of earshot.

“Yeah, Marcus…” Vaughn leaned against the table, arms crossed much the same

as Jordan’s had been. “What the fuck was that about?”

Knowing he had no way to escape this conversation, Marcus shut the door and

locked it. “He’s Dalton Gray’s sire.”

“And you know this how?” Vaughn asked.

“Because I fucked him, Vaughn,” Marcus sighed. “I fucked him into submission

and tasted his blood. Same damn signature as Dalton’s, but stronger. I knew he was

older, but… I had no idea.”

“Are you telling me you slept with the enemy?”

Marcus looked up at Vaughn, then nodded. “I did. Call it stupidity, call it a lapse

in judgment, but what’s done is done.”

Geoff remained silent, though his expression changed to one of thoughtfulness.

“We could use this to our advantage.”

“How?”

“He’s right,” Vaughn said. “I can’t fucking believe you did it, but like you said,

it’s over and done with. However, Gray is bound to notice one of his lackeys is missing

-- even if it is his sire. He’s going to want revenge, namely against Silva for betraying

him.”

“What are you proposing?”

Vaughn left his perch and approached Marcus, voice lowering to a sinister

whisper. “Bait.”

* * *

“Whoa. I always thought the rumor about brooding vampires was a line of

bullshit, but man, you’re proving it wrong in spades.”

“What?” Jordan turned from the window he’d be staring out of for the past half

hour to see a young woman of about twenty-five standing near him.

“Sorry,” she laughed. She shocked him with a genuine smile… and a hand

extended. He shook it gently. “I’m Tia.”

“Jordan.”

“Cool. So…” She leaned with her back against the window, giving him no choice

but to face her instead of the darkness outside. “What did the old asshole do this time?”

Jordan surprised himself with a laugh. “You aren’t like the others.”

“If you mean moody, grouchy, and holding a grudge, then no. Not all vampires

are bad. If you mean able to change shape, then yep, I am.”

“What’s the deal with Marcus? I can’t read him.”

Tia shrugged. “I don’t think Marcus can read Marcus, to be honest.” At Jordan’s

blank look, she continued. “He’s got a… history with Dalton Gray. Did he not tell you?”

“No…”

“They were lovers once.”

Jordan slumped back onto the wall and slid down to the floor. “Oh, God. No

wonder he’s pissed.”

“Care to enlighten me?” Tia asked.

Jordan looked up at her. “I’m Dalton’s sire.”

“Oh.” She grimaced. “That does make for a problem.”

“Problem? He’s likely to just kill me when Gray’s dead!”

“Nah.” Tia shoved her manicured hands into the pockets of her rather tight

jeans. “He likes you.”

Jordan snorted. “I beg to differ. I overheard him talking to two others. I was

nothing but a convenient fuck.”

“Marcus isn’t like that, Jordan. He might be hard to deal with sometimes, but

he’s not cold-hearted.”

Jordan didn’t feel like arguing the matter. Tia struck him as the only true person

he could trust in this place. Her youth and beauty, coupled with strength of character,

made him almost wish he liked women. No wonder Marcus had charged her with

caring for the young one. Speaking of… “How is the little girl?”

“Caila? She’s doing okay. Nightmares are a bitch, but she’s recovering from

malnutrition and dehydration well enough. Would you like to see her?”

“Is… Is that a good idea? Marcus forbade me from leaving this wing of the

house.”

“I can bring her to you. I think she wants to see you too.”

Jordan mulled it over for a moment. “Okay. I’d like to make sure she’s okay,

even if it’s just for a temporary peace of mind.”

“Wait for me in your room. I’ll be back shortly.”

Tia headed down the hall, leaving Jordan to wonder if this was a good idea. If

Marcus sought his death or exile in repayment of Dalton’s evils, then Jordan could go

with the knowledge that he’d saved at least one of them.

He went to his room and sat on the bed to wait. A part of him wished Marcus

would walk by, but another part simply didn’t want to see the man now. He couldn’t

blame Marcus for being angry, though he hadn’t known about Marcus’ connection to

Dalton. Still, Jordan figured it didn’t excuse him from leaving out a crucial bit of truth.

If he’d told Marcus he was Dalton’s sire, then maybe they wouldn’t have given into

desire.

“There he is.”

Jordan looked up and smiled -- truly smiled -- for the first time in a long time.

Caila, the young were female he’d rescued, stood before him with a little smile of her

own. Jordan held out his hand, but Caila stunned him by throwing her arms around his

neck.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed. He didn’t deserve her hug or

gratitude, but he couldn’t bring himself to reject it. “You’re welcome.” He had to force

the words out around the threat of tears. “You’re so welcome.”

Caila pulled back and brushed a small finger over his cheek, wiping away

wetness he hadn’t known was there. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I am now.”

“Come on, honey,” Tia said. “It’s time for dinner.” Tia smiled at Jordan, then led

Caila out of the room.

Jordan couldn’t move from where he sat and a tear dripped onto his shirt.

Charlotte Gray never saw her eighth birthday. Jordan had seen to it. Now the ghost of a

little girl haunted him almost as much as Marcus Deleon.

* * *

“There are enough explosives to blow the entire compound into the next

century.”

Marcus followed Geoff as they surveyed the equipment. “What about the

survivors? I know there are others still imprisoned.”

“We have three teams set to go once the main house is occupied,” Geoff said.

“Vaughn and Tia are leading two of them.”

“Who’s leading the other?”

“Me. AJ isn’t happy about it, but he’ll live. Remember: incapacitate first, then

remove the head. When’s the last time you killed a vamp?”

“A while,” Marcus admitted. “What about Silva?”

“He’s the key to luring Gray out,” Vaughn said as he entered the storeroom.

“I’ve got him set up with a hidden microphone. Code phrase is ‘here I am.’ Once Gray

goes for him, we go for Gray.”

Marcus nodded. “Right. Let’s just hope Dalton goes for this.”

“He will,” Jordan said from behind him.

Marcus resisted the urge to turn around. “They won’t be expecting a direct

assault. We have to make damn sure we’ve got their attention so the others can get

inside for rescues. We are the bait.”

“Wait.” Vaughn stepped into Marcus’ space. “You can’t go out there and just

offer yourself up as the main course!”

“And who else will do it? Silva? Sure, Dalton wants him dead, but I can

guarantee I’m a prize that bastard will happily take if given the chance. If he has me, he

will have everyone else in my care. So we’re going to present him with the illusion of a

chance.”

Geoff groaned. “I hate to admit it, Ian, but he’s got a point. Marcus has always

been a thorn in Gray’s side. If Gray thinks he has Marcus, then he’ll think he has an

advantage.”

Vaughn backed down, though he didn’t look particularly thrilled. “Fine,” he

snapped. “But don’t expect me to lie for you when Tia finds out.”

“Finds out what?”

Shit.

It was Geoff, not Vaughn, who let the cat out of the bag, though. “Our fearless

leader has appointed himself as bait.”

“Uh…” Tia whirled Marcus around. “Excuse me?”

“You know as well as I do Dalton will jump at the chance to have both me and

Silva.”

A knowing, mischievous smile spread slowly across her lips. “Bullshit.” Marcus

closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable, but instead, Tia whispered in his ear. “You

just can’t let him go alone.”

“Fuck you,” Marcus muttered.

“No thanks, babe.” Tia winked. “I’m too curvy for you.”

“Let’s get moving,” Vaughn announced. “Daylight’s burning.”

They all headed out. AJ and Elian met their mates at the front door. Once

goodbyes were said, leaving AJ and Elian to manage the pack, Marcus led his Enforcers

out. The rest of the teams, composed of older weres mostly, joined them at a trio of

black, armored trucks.

“How the hell did you --”

“I can be persuasive,” Marcus answered, knowing Jordan’s question before he’d

even asked it. AJ and Elian had asked the same thing. “I have connections all over the

place. Rest assured, the explosions at Gray’s compound will be reported as mechanical

and electrical malfunctions. He’s made many enemies.”

Tia joined them in one of the trucks and began assembling Silva’s cover. “Once

we leave the garage, the sun will be out for a few more hours. Don’t lose the cover until

you’re inside Gray’s main building. Can’t have any fried vamps, especially if they’re

cute.”

“Tia.”

She laughed and stuck her tongue out at Marcus. “Like you would disagree?”

Marcus focused his attention elsewhere. He still didn’t know what to do about

Jordan.

“So.” Tia continued her conversation with Jordan as if Marcus wasn’t even there.

“Why would Gray lord it over his own sire?”

“I murdered his daughter,” Jordan answered.

Marcus sensed Tia freeze beside him.

“Why?”

“She was seven years old,” Jordan said. “I hadn’t been turned for very long, but

my sire was a sadistic monster with no regard for anyone. He gave an order, his

progeny followed it. If we didn’t, we died -- permanently.”

“Wow…”

“He wanted a rival businessman dead, along with the entire family -- wife,

servants, daughter. I fulfilled the ‘assignment’ on the eve of the daughter’s eighth

birthday. Only one survived.”

“Who?” Tia asked. Marcus remained silent.

“The businessman… Dalton Gray.”

“Why didn’t you kill Gray then?”

“Because he was beautiful.” Jordan sighed.

Marcus snorted. “At least I wasn’t the only fool to fall for it.”

“Not by a long shot,” Jordan said. “I wanted him for myself. So I turned him and

escaped my sire.”

“Damn,” Tia said. “So what happened with your sire? Didn’t he find you?”

“He never had a chance. The others beneath him rebelled. There was nothing left

of him when they finished.”

“I’m sorry…”

Marcus caught Tia hugging Jordan out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t want to

acknowledge the tiny voice in his head that whispered just how right she’d been about

Jordan. Dalton Gray possessed a deadly allure which apparently no one could resist.

“I need to go up front now.” Tia stood and readjusted the hood of Jordan’s cover.

“Head down. The black on the inside will keep you in shadows, while the white on the

outside reflects the light. Once you get inside, you can ditch everything.” She left them

alone in the back of the truck.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“That you and Dalton were lovers,” Jordan said.

“In all honesty, I was preoccupied.”

Jordan laughed, the soft sound warming the ice Marcus worked hard to keep

around his heart. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. No one knows how he and I met,

and that night isn’t something I enjoy remembering.”

Marcus sighed and leaned his head back. “I don’t blame you. I’ve done things

I’m not exactly proud of. Many of us have.”

“When this is done, I’ll go. Or, if you feel I need to atone for my crimes or those

of my progeny, I will accept death.”

“I’m not going to kill you, Jordan.”

“Then what do you want from me?”

Marcus silently cursed every word Tia had said. “Everything.”

A hand touched the side of his face. Lips covered his own. Marcus opened to

Jordan’s kiss. The reverent touches frightened him almost as much as they soothed him.

Why did Tia always have to be right?

Chapter Three

The truck stopped and a moment later, the back opened. Behind Tia, the other

two trucks parked on what appeared to be a side alley. Marcus prayed this whole plan

worked. He couldn’t lose any more of their kind to Gray or anyone else.

“Ready?” He glanced over his shoulder at Jordan.

From beneath a large, dark hood, Jordan nodded. “The sooner, the better.”

Marcus signaled to the teams to wait, then he and Silva slipped down the alley

and into a door along one wall. “You lead. I haven’t been here in a long time.”

Jordan went ahead, keeping the pace swift but cautious. He stopped at a juncture

and lifted a hand. Marcus stayed behind him. “That way. Keep to the left wall. Last

juncture ends at a cell block. From there, the hall continues to the stairs. No other doors

to worry about until then.”

They flattened themselves to the left wall and crept down the corridor. Marcus

steadied his breathing when they reached the cages. The cells were empty which meant

the prisoners were all held in one place several levels underground -- made rescues

much easier.

Jordan paused for a few seconds at the bend before motioning toward the steps.

“Two guards stand watch at the door. It’s still daylight, so they’ll be humans. Gray

keeps his unturned were guards close to himself, for obvious reasons. We can kill these

two fast. Ready?”

Marcus stripped and shifted. While the process was second nature to him, he

couldn’t help but chuckle to himself when Jordan gasped. Marcus stretched, first front,

then back.

“I’ll never get used to that,” Jordan muttered. “Take ‘em down fast.”

Jordan flung the door open, startling the men on the other side. Before either

could so much as shout, Jordan snapped one guard’s neck while Marcus lunged at the

other, tearing the man apart with claws and teeth. Bloody, his adrenaline pumping like

never before, Marcus jumped back once the guard stopped gurgling and twitching. He

licked the blood from his muzzle and paws.

“Fuck! Remind me to never piss you off.”

The hallway opened up into what could only have been a torture room. Marcus

let out a low growl. The tables were clean, but the stench of death lingered. Several

cages lined either wall, but nothing moved within the shadows.

“This isn’t right,” Jordan said. “I’ve never seen this place so quiet.”

Marcus nodded toward the only other door. Jordan went first and opened it. The

area beyond remained as silent as the grave. Jordan was right; something felt off.

“Marcus!”

Jordan jerked the radio off his hip and switched it to talk. “Tia? What’s wrong?”

“They’re dead… All of them!”

“Who? The weres?”

“The vampires, the humans, the weres. My God, Jordan, it looks like a pack of…”

“Tia?” Jordan shook the radio when the signal broke. “Tia!”

“Well, well.”

Marcus and Jordan spun around to face the devil himself. Marcus snarled, the

fur along the ridge of his spine raising. He felt Jordan tense beside him. Dalton Gray

smirked at them, fangs glistening with blood. He licked a stray droplet from his lower

lip.

“Honestly, I thought it would have been harder to find you, Marcus. And you,

sire…” Dalton lifted a pistol and aimed it directly at Jordan’s forehead. “My daughter’s

life wasn’t enough, eh? Well, maybe God will forgive you.”

Without thinking, Marcus howled and lunged, knocking Jordan backward.

Blinding pain shot through the back of Marcus’ left shoulder blade, but he struggled to

ignore it. He spun and went for Dalton.

“Die, you son-of-a-bitch!” Dalton shouted, firing again. The bullet found its

target in the front of Marcus’ left shoulder this time.

“Marcus!”

Ignoring Jordan, Marcus leaped onto Dalton. They both hit the floor, and the

pistol flew out of Dalton’s hand. The vampire’s nails and teeth tore at Marcus’

wounded shoulder, but Marcus gained the edge. He clamped his teeth on Dalton’s

throat and shook. Dalton shrieked and flailed beneath Marcus’ bulk. A few seconds

later, Jordan shoved Marcus to the side. With Marcus still holding on to the vampire,

Jordan drove his own fist into Dalton’s chest. Bone cracked and blood sprayed

everywhere, coating all three of them.

Dalton Gray screamed and froze. Marcus finished his job and ripped out the

vampire’s throat, leaving behind nothing but shredded muscle and tissue. Jordan

pulled his hand out of Gray’s chest, and with a brutal twist, snapped the man’s head

from his shoulders.

Marcus released Gray and limped a few inches before collapsing.

“Shit!” Jordan rushed over and turned Marcus onto his right side. “Tia!” he

yelled into the radio.

Marcus barely heard her answer. The pain lanced through him like nothing ever

had. He vaguely remembered Jordan telling him about the capsules.

He couldn’t die like this…

* * *

“He’s stable, but…”

Jordan stopped trying to climb the walls and whirled around. “May I see him?”

Tia sighed. “There’s something you need to know.”

Dread settled in the pit of Jordan’s stomach. “What?”

“His arm is badly damaged. The silver poisoned the tissue. What the hell was he

thinking?”

Jordan closed his eyes, remembering everything: the pistol, Dalton’s sneer,

Marcus’ blood-curdling howl when the bullets hit. “Dalton went for me. Marcus got in

the way.”

“He saved you.”

Jordan didn’t know about that so much as he figured Marcus reacted the only

way a true pack leader would when threatened. “He did it to end this madness.”

“Mr. Silva?”

“Yes?”

A nurse motioned for Jordan to join him. “Mr. Deleon is awake. He’s a bit

groggy, but asked to see you.” He opened the hospital room door and smiled. “Take

your time.”

Taking a deep breath, Jordan stepped inside.

A heart monitor beeped steadily and the sheets rustled a little just as Jordan

rounded the corner into the room. Marcus blinked slowly, but surprised Jordan with a

smile. Jordan realized it was the first time he’d seen the expression on Deleon’s face at

all.

“Hey.” Marcus sounded raspy, but it didn’t detract from his otherworldly charm.

“Hey,” Jordan said as he stood beside the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I was hit by a truck.”

Jordan looked away for a moment. The guilt felt like a ton of bricks.

“Jordan.”

“Hm?”

“Look at me.” He met Marcus’ gaze. “It’s not your fault. It was you… or me. The

choice made perfect sense.”

Jordan huffed a short laugh. “Says who?”

“Says me,” Marcus said. “You know, Tia said something when you first came to

us. At the time, I didn’t want to believe it. Now, though, I do.” At Jordan’s curious look,

Marcus continued. “She said not all vampires are bad, just like not all weres are good.”

“Was that all she said?”

Marcus fell silent for a few seconds, then shook his head. “No.” He reached up

and touched his fingertips to Jordan’s lips. “But she was right about the rest too.”

Jordan let Marcus lure him in, careful of the IV tube in the were’s hand. He

didn’t know where things were headed beyond this hospital room, but the moment

Marcus’ mouth touched his, Jordan figured it didn’t matter. The kiss, while gentle,

belied the surge of need. Marcus Deleon exceeded every exception to the rule when it

came to werewolves.

“Don’t leave,” Marcus whispered as they drew apart.

“I won’t. I promise.”

* * *

It took a week of being home, out of the sterile environment of a hospital before

Marcus felt something resembling normal. His arm hurt like hell, and the scars looked

awful. What mattered, however, was that Jordan still lived. According to Tia, Jordan

didn’t believe Marcus had done it to save him. Truth was Marcus simply refused to let

the man go.

“Marcus?”

“Come in, Tia.” She slipped into the room, shutting the door behind her.

“How are you doing?”

“Better. Where’s Jordan?”

“Borrowing my shower.”

“Why? Why not take it in here?”

Tia sighed and sat on the bed beside Marcus. “Honestly? I don’t think he

understands why you did what you did.” At Marcus’ dubious glare, she simply

laughed. “You really think you can hide it? Marcus, it’s there, plain as day, when you

look at him. He isn’t Dalton. He’s a good man, vampire or not.”

“What the hell will the others say?”

“Who cares? You’re the pack leader, remember? You may not rule with an iron

fist, but it’s your command the rest follow. If you want them to accept the fact that their

leader loves a vampire, you have to show them you are firm in your beliefs.”

“How the fuck do you do that?”

She shrugged and stood. “It’s gotta be a sister thing, or you’re just that damn

transparent. My room is unlocked. He just got in the shower.” With that, she walked

out, leaving the door wide open. Subtlety had never been one of her strong points.

Marcus got out of bed and steadied himself for a moment. The poison had finally

left his system, but a touch of dizziness remained. He grabbed the lube out of a drawer

and made his way down the hall to Tia’s room. Once in the bathroom, he shut and

locked the door.

Jordan stood behind the opaque shower curtain, his muscular, lean body

beckoning. Marcus stripped and startled Jordan by stepping in behind him.

“What are you --”

“Shh…” Marcus splayed his fingers over Jordan’s chest, thumbs brushing taut

nipples. Jordan groaned and circled his arm back around Marcus’ neck. “I don’t know

how the rest of the pack will feel about it.” He licked water from Jordan’s neck while

one hand drifted lower along Jordan’s abdomen. “But I no longer care.” He circled

Jordan’s cock with his fingers and gave it a slow stroke.

Jordan hissed, hips rocking. “Please.”

“Please what?” Marcus nipped the sensitive skin at the juncture of Jordan’s neck

and shoulder. He lightly rubbed his thumb over the tip of Jordan’s cock. “What do you

want?”

“Anything,” Jordan moaned. “Everything.”

Marcus tilted Jordan’s head with his free hand and licked the man’s lips before

whispering, “Then take me.”

“What?”

Marcus turned Jordan around and began stroking their cocks together. “Fuck me,

Jordan.” He groaned against Jordan’s mouth. “Claim me.”

Instead of answering in words, Jordan cupped Marcus’ face and kissed him hard.

“Bed. Now.”

Marcus left the shower, and Jordan turned off the water before following. They

only made cursory attempts at drying before Marcus found himself flat on his back on

Tia’s bed. Nestled between his legs, Jordan’s body pressed into his. Marcus drew his

legs up, back arching as Jordan kissed a path along his neck. Fangs scraped his skin,

from the hollow of his throat, down to his left nipple. A low growl served as the only

warning before those fangs sank into his flesh.

“Fuck!” Marcus seized Jordan’s hair and held the vampire to him. Every pull

from Jordan radiated through Marcus’ body like lightning.

Jordan worked a hand between them, cupped Marcus’ balls, and tugged.

Marcus’ eyes rolled back and he grunted, coming hard. Only then did Jordan release

him to get the lube. Two slick fingers probed Marcus’ hole, then penetrated him with

excruciating gentleness.

“Jesus, you’re tight…” Jordan finger-fucked him slow and easy. Marcus couldn’t

decide if he wanted the man to keep going or just fuck him already. “When’s the last

time you bottomed?”

“Too fucking long ago,” Marcus moaned. “You’re driving me crazy, Jordan.”

Jordan withdrew his fingers and something much larger, much longer, filled

Marcus. Marcus shuddered and rocked his hips upward, the motion shoving Jordan

deeper.

“Say my name again…”

Marcus met his lover’s gaze. His own eyes widened when Jordan pulled back

and thrust in hard. “Jordan. Yes…”

The vampire grabbed Marcus’ wrists and pinned his arms above his head. Their

fingers entwined. Marcus had a split second to catch his breath. Jordan’s mouth covered

his and all pretense of being gentle died. Marcus grunted and moaned into the kiss. He

hadn’t bottomed in so long, he’d forgotten how incredible it felt to be so full. Jordan’s

cock plunged in and out, taking Marcus’ breath away with every thrust. The grip on

Marcus’ fingers tightened. It took only a few more strokes to send him over the edge.

He shouted, the sound drowning in Jordan’s mouth. A prick on his tongue and his

blood flavored their kiss. Jordan tore away at the last moment and ground his hips.

Heat flooded Marcus’ body in waves.

Panting, sweaty, they both went somewhat limp. Jordan had yet to pull out, and

his weight felt welcome, right. Marcus closed his eyes and swallowed. Tia hadn’t

missed the mark at all. Being a wolf, Marcus followed his instincts, even when it came

to finding a mate. He just hadn’t expected him to be a vampire, of all things.

“You’re thinking too much,” Jordan muttered.

Marcus chuckled and rolled them until Jordan slipped out, and they rested side

by side. He studied the vampire’s face, watched the way the light from the lamp behind

him danced in Jordan’s eyes. “Let me ask you something.”

“Hm?”

Marcus traced a finger along the curve of Jordan’s lower lip. “Have you ever

been burned so badly you swore no one would ever get through again?”

Jordan nodded.

“Have you ever fought against the inevitable, only to realize it was too late?”

Jordan smiled. “I did, once.”

“What happened?”

“Some damn wolf managed to get under my skin.”

“Do you regret it?”

Jordan’s gaze slid to Marcus’ arm. “At times. That bullet had been meant for

me.”

Marcus cupped Jordan’s chin, turning the man’s attention back to him. “I protect

my own.” He leaned down and kissed Jordan softly. “Especially the man I love.”

“As do I.”

* * *

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

Marcus smiled and took Jordan’s hand, leading his lover into the large ballroom

the pack used as a primary meeting hall. “If I had any doubts, you wouldn’t be here.”

“Fair enough.”

They stopped at the long table on the far end of the room. Several other tables

stood on the lacquered floor before them. Every single face watched them both, some

curious, some dubious, others understanding. Maybe he’d misjudged his family

altogether.

“I am sure you all have many questions,” Marcus said. “In time, some answers

will make more sense than they may right now. First and foremost, there is a matter I

must address.” He pulled Jordan closer, smiled at him, then turned back to the others.

“Jordan Silva is a vampire, but he is nothing like Dalton Gray.” He waited a few

seconds for any potential protests, but none came. “He is also my mate.”

“What about Dalton Gray?” One of the men stood. “Is he dead?”

“Yes. Gray will never again hurt anyone. As for others like him, they exist. We

can’t let our defenses down, even in the wake of triumph,” Jordan said before Marcus

could speak. Marcus hid his shock. “Never get complacent, and never fail to trust your

instincts.”

The man nodded. “Does this mean you will fight your own kind for us?”

“I have and I will again.”

Much to Marcus’ surprise, everyone rose from their seat and began clapping.

Some even bowed. Tia lifted her glass and stood on her chair, more for added height

over her brethren than for emphasis.

“A toast to our victory and to Marcus and Jordan!”

* * *

With the party in full swing, Marcus and Jordan spoke with the rest of the pack

as each person came to greet them. Before long, however, all attention turned to the

doorway. The crowd fell silent as a man stepped into the room. Marcus vaguely

recognized him, a were of unknown species.

“I apologize for the interruption,” the man said. He approached Marcus and

Jordan, and bowed. “I am Loren Cole.”

“I know your name.” Marcus gestured toward a door off to the side. “Let’s go

somewhere quieter and more private. Tia, come with me, please.”

Tia followed silently, though her attention remained firmly attached to their

visitor. Marcus had never seen her so enraptured, and he fought the urge to laugh.

When they entered a seldom used office, Marcus and the others sat: Jordan to his left,

Tia to his right, and their enigmatic guest across from him.

“You are not a wolf,” Marcus said. “Though, from what I’ve heard, no one

knows your true form.”

“That is true. My species is… known for its seclusion.” Loren rested his arms on

the table, long, elegant fingers entwined. “I know you have taken care of Dalton Gray.

For that, I commend you. But there are others who exceed his level of depravity.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Marcus said. “Are you here on behalf of a group?”

“Yes. I come bearing the seal of one of my kind.” Loren pushed a folded paper to

Marcus. The wax seal appeared draconic in nature. “Vampires are no threat to us,”

Loren continued. “Demons, however, are.”

Marcus lifted one eyebrow. “What do you think I can do against a demon?”

“Not you.” Loren’s gaze shifted to Tia.

“Tia?”

Loren nodded. Tia shifted a bit in her seat and avoided Marcus’ eyes. What the

hell?

“Why Tia?”

“Because she is the last female of our kind.”

“What?” Jordan’s response echoed Marcus’ thoughts perfectly. Tia sighed. She

stood and unceremoniously stripped down to nothing. Then she did the unthinkable;

she changed.

“Holy shit…” Jordan whispered.

Marcus could only blink in disbelief as his adopted baby sister, one of his best

Enforcers, took on her true shape for the first time -- at least since they’d met.

Azure scales covered Tia’s body, her curves only accenting their brilliance. She

looked human, for the most part, aside from her skin. Then came the wings. Covered in

scales like the rest of her, but fading to black near the bottoms, they were large enough

to enshroud her completely. She smiled and flicked out a forked tongue.

“Demons are destroying our brood,” Loren said, his attention firmly riveted on

the female dragon before them. “All that’s left are me, my lord, and a small retinue of

guards. No females, no young.”

“Why did you keep this from me?” Marcus asked.

Tia shrugged. “As he said, our kind is dying out. Females and the young are

targeted to prevent any chance of breeding.”

“Whoa…” Jordan sank back into his chair. “Is Tia your real name?”

“Sort of… It’s a shortened form.”

“Of…?”

Her wings unfurled, revealing her nude body once more. At the center of her

torso, a light shone brightly. Marcus and Jordan watched, dumbfounded, as Tia took

the light in her hands. Bright white turned slowly into the blue of the ocean.

“Tiamat,” she said. “I am Tiamat.”

Mychael Black

What do gaming, SpongeBob, cooking, writing, and an unnatural addiction to

Mountain Dew all have in common?

Not a damn thing, which is what makes Mychael Black an interesting bird

indeed.

Born in north Alabama, Mychael now resides in north Mississippi. Having run

the gamut of labels in regard to gender and sexuality, Mychael now shuns society’s

views on normality and embraces a poly-everything attitude. Call Mychael her or him --

it doesn’t matter. Just keep reading the books.

Links:

http://www.mychaelblackbooks.com/

http://kjohnson1976.livejournal.com/