Embrace the Power: A Paranormal Romance (The Blood Rose Series Book 9) (20 page)

As Aralynn, she and Stone had finished up more than one night in a bar, having a final beer before dawn.

She remembered one particular place where Rez had come up to them. He’d been interested in ‘Aralynn’ and had a real player’s vibe. Now that she knew what she was, she wondered if he’d sensed on some level that she had blood rose potential.

Stone had given him a cold eye until he’d begged pardon and strolled, or maybe swaggered away.

As she recalled, the town was in the eastern part of the realm not far from the Dauphaire Mountains and Dark Gorge. The latter extended all the way into Mastyr Ian’s Realm of Camberlaune. And because she could teleport, the trip would be easy enough to make.

Fine. So Mastyr Rez would be the one she would feed tonight.

Unwanted desire, however, began to curl everywhere as she thought about him. She’d seen him at least three times through the past several weeks and he’d always looked at her as though he liked what he saw. She’d liked looking at him, too. His wavy brown hair, complete with sexy blond highlights, was at shoulder length and he had gorgeous blue eyes, a dimple in his chin. He had a scruff, too, that made him look dangerous and he never lacked for female attention.

She summoned her maids again and had them tear the braids apart. She’d wear Aralynn’s jeans. Maybe she’d go as Aralynn.

But she dismissed that idea right away. She was done hiding behind her wolf-self. She was Rosamunde, she was a blood rose and she could ease Rez’s suffering tonight, as in right now. As a mastyr, Rez suffered from the crippling pain like the rest of his kind.

As soon as her hair was back in its loose, frizzy mass, she told her maids she’d be in seclusion for the night meditating. This had been her cover for weeks so not a single one of them expressed surprise.

As soon as she locked the door from within, she teleported straight to the interior of Aralynn’s cottage. She rooted around in her dresser and found a sparkly, low-cut purple tank top that she knew Rez would like. Sliding it on, she could see that ‘Rosamunde’s’ bigger breasts created an erotic four-inch line of cleavage. Sweet!

Next, she hunted for Aralynn’s tightest jeans. Finding them, she loved the way they showed off her beautiful ass and her oh-so-long legs.

She was set to go, except for her hair and make-up. She wanted to do something different with her red frizz. She created two braids that ran down the sides of her face and tied them together in the back to weigh her hair down.

She then went to work on her make-up. As Aralynn, she enjoyed mixing it up.

But this time, as Rosamunde, she didn’t hold back. She loaded her eyelids with dark purple shadow, deepened the red of her brows to a beautiful brown, and put on a dark shade of purplish-red lipstick.

She had only one thing to add. She climbed into a pair of black stilettos, with rhinestones down the back of each spike and damn if she didn’t look good. She hardly even recognized herself. Maybe this is the woman she would have been if duty hadn’t stuck her in a castle for a thousand years.

The world of a queen was highly overrated.

With her sights set, she teleported to the town of Millerell to an alley across the street from the Wild Boar, a bar catering to tough types. She stayed in the shadows gaining her bearings. Several Harleys were lined up outside. She was pretty sure Rez rode one. Stone did as well, that is, when he wasn’t battling the Invictus.

She quickly set thoughts of Stone aside. She had a job to get done, so, Rez it was.

Desire once more curled around several inappropriate places.

She wanted a ride all right, but not on a motorcycle.

Was this really her?

Just as she was about to step out of the shadows, another Harley arrived with the signature tall handlebars.

She drew in a quick breath.

Rez.

As he backed in his bike, then straddled it standing up, he lifted his nose into the air. He wore a black t-shirt with the sleeves cut off to better display his guns. And what freaking hot guns they were. He might not be as tall or as built as Stone, but he looked damn good.

She watched him sniff the air more than once.

Was he catching her blood rose scent? Her heart pounded, clearly recognizing in Rez exactly what she needed.

She waited for him to go inside, but once he did, she set her stilettos straight for the propped-open door of the Wild Boar. Live music spilled into the street as well as a lot of raucous laughter.

The place was hopping.

And for the first time in her life, Rosamunde would be hopping, too.

Chapter Eight

Stone paced his Communication Center, a few feet behind his work station, and was pretty sure that if one more person asked him where Aralynn was, he’d throw a punch and not care who fell to the floor.

“You got a forest gremlin up your butt?”

He turned to glare at Delia. “What?” She could be damned insolent.

“I haven’t seen you in this kind of temper since I don’t know when. What gives?”

Stone ground his teeth. “And you’re not even supposed to be here. You should be home with Elias, where you belong.”

“Elias knows I need to be here. He’s showing his patriotism right now.” Delia then levitated, turning in the air in order to meet his gaze straight on.

No bullshit,
she pathed.
What happened to Aralynn? You’ve been stuck to each other for weeks, battling happily together and suddenly she doesn’t show. Worse, you’re in a mood that’s probably going to blow the local transmitter then where will we be?

He was pretty sure that if he didn’t unload, he’d kill someone.
She’s a blood rose and she lied to me.

Delia’s jaw fell slack.
Say, what?

Which part?

The first one. Aralynn’s a blood rose?

Yup.

She drew in close and shifted to nudge him in the shoulder, which given his size and her lean troll frame felt more like a gentle pat.
But this is great news. Is your pain gone?

He couldn’t help that his hand went to his stomach.
Every last bit.

Delia turned her back to the monitors to once more face him.
I’ve read up on these women. Three of them were interviewed in a blog. I think they were bonded to Mastyrs Seth, Jude and Malik. I can’t remember their names—

He helped her out because he knew each one well.
Lorelei, Hannah and Willow.

Right. Well, anyway, each said the drive to be with their mastyrs was beyond overwhelming and one of them, I think it was Willow, said she had the hots for Mastyr Zane the moment she saw him and Mastyr Malik about split his own brain open keeping them apart. So, are you worried about another mastyr getting to her? I hear the bond can be forced on a blood rose.

Stone suddenly recalled what Davido had called him: Stubborn and pigheaded. He was levitating before he knew it.

Where are you going?

I’ve got to find her. She said she needed me.

Though Harris called to him, Stone sped out the door. He pathed with his lieutenant and explained his problem.
Take over for me?

You got it. Hope you find her fast.

Once he was in the air, he stalled out. He had no idea where to go. Would she still be at the castle? Had she left to find someone to take her extra supply? Sweet Goddess, what if she ended up at the fang-end of the wrong kind of vampire?

He opened up his telepathy once more and focused on Rosamunde.
Hey, are you there?

I am, but you don’t need to worry about me. I’ve got my sights set on a Harley-riding mastyr with no sleeves. Oh, and he’s got a swagger like he wouldn’t turn me away if I suggested I wanted to open a vein for him.

She sounded pissed, something he would have addressed then and there, but damn if the woman didn’t shut her pathway down. No matter how hard he tried to reach her again, he couldn’t.

It would seem the very proper Queen of Ferrenden Peace was on the hunt and about to land a vampire.

He recalled visiting a certain bar in the east out at Millerell in the Dauphaires and that a good-looking mastyr had come over to her. What was the name of that bar?

The Wild Boar.

If she was there, she wasn’t too far away, but could he get to her before she did anything foolish?

~ ~ ~

Rosamunde felt nothing but exhilarated as she stood in the doorway of the bar. The place was jumping. A three-piece band banged away in the corner, playing something that sounded like a bluesy country song. They weren’t the best, but they were loud and loud was what she wanted right now.

And nothing complicated. Just the right man with the appropriate dental hardware, and maybe a private corner, and she’d be all set.

She’d always liked this place. Something very female in her responded to the look of the men. They were tough, a bunch of real fighters. When she was with Stone, she’d caught a few sidelong glances because no one was going to mess with the ruling Mastyr of Tannisford. But right now there was nothing but open gawking and glances that traveled up and down her body.

Truth? She loved it.

She felt like a desirable woman and it felt good.

Two shifters came up to her. “Buy you a drink?”

“I’d love it.” She wasn’t holding back, not tonight, maybe never again. She was done being formal and demure. Stone might not want her, he probably would never forgive her, but getting a pair of fangs into her was exactly what she needed.

The shifter was tall with shoulders that could have supported a boat. He had blond hair, blue eyes and called out over his shoulder, “Rachel, a beer for my friend, here. What’s your name, Sweetheart?”

“Rosamunde.”

“Just like the queen.”

“Yup. Just like her.” She even smiled

Rachel shouted back. “What’s your pleasure, Hon?”

“Anything amber. And thanks.”

“You got it. Pull up a stool and don’t let any of these cretins give you a hard time.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” Hell, if she got in trouble, maybe she’d just call on the elf-lord power and put any troublesome man in stasis.

With her two swains flanking her, Rosamunde made her way toward the horseshoe bar, packed two-deep. A number of the men turned to stare at her. But when she was within a few feet, a stool moved as though magically reaching for her. A heavy boot was attached, one looped with three chains around the back.

Her gaze followed that boot and a leg encased in tight leather, until she was looking at the vampire she was after.

Rez.

He’d pushed the empty stool out for her and she could feel his chronic blood hunger like a fire on her skin.

She thanked the shifters for the warm welcome to the Wild Boar, then made a beeline for the tall metal stool.

Both of them complained as Rosamunde climbed up and seated her ass with a firm wiggle then grabbed the beer. She could smell the vampire next to her. And his salty, nutty scent mixed with a very fine aftershave sent shivers chasing down both shoulders.

Once more, her heart pounded.

The shifters tried to push in, but Rez lifted up on his stool. “Beat it. The woman’s made her choice.”

Both men opened their mouths to protest, but Rez growled, a loud resonant sound that had half the heads in the loud bar turning in their direction. The shifters each took a step back, lifted their hands then moved away. That’s when Rosamunde realized Rez’s fangs were sitting low.

And what a display.

In any other circumstance, she might have been scared out of her mind. But she was a blood rose and needed what he was offering.

She sipped her beer, but her gaze was fixed to the sharp pearly tips.

He tapped her pathway.
You ever been bitten, Sweetheart?

Uh-huh.
She couldn’t look away and her heart was now slamming in her chest.
Loved it.

He leaned closed.
Sweet Goddess, your blood smells like something straight from heaven.
He sniffed low on her neck and close to her vein.
What is that, Rosamunde? Pretty name, by the way.

Maybe he felt obligated to make small talk.

She didn’t.
I want to donate. Is that something you’d be interested in?

The vampire didn’t need much encouragement at all. He put one hand on her thigh and slid the other around the back of her neck. She tilted her head. She was so into it, she wanted the bite right now, in front of the Goddess and everyone. She just didn’t care.

She felt his tongue on her neck then suddenly, he was airborne, but not in a good way. An enormous roar filled the entire bar, which stopped all talk as well as the sounds of the clunky band in the corner.

She shot around on her stool.

Stone was here.

And he was beating the shit out of Rez.

Holy crap. She honestly didn’t think he’d come or even be able to find her.

Stone had Rez up against a wood-paneled wall near the door, pinned by the throat, and was pummeling him with his fist.

But it wasn’t right. Rez hadn’t done anything except respond to her invitation.

She levitated and leaped onto Stone’s back. “Stop it!” she shrieked, almost sounding like a wraith.

But Stone kept hitting Rez.

With her arms wrapped tight around his neck, she shouted over and over, but he wouldn’t listen.

She needed help. “Some of you get hold of Mastyr Stone’s arms or he’ll kill Rez!”

When no one came forward, she hopped off his back and tried to access the elf-lord power, but she knew she didn’t have time for that.

She shouted, “Please help Rez! You don’t understand. I’m a blood rose and Stone will kill him and Rez doesn’t deserve to die.”

When she leaped up on Stone’s back again, the men in the room began to move in and before long, Stone was spinning in a circle, with several shifters weighing him down on both arms.

Rosamunde held on tight then pathed.
Steady yourself, Stone. Come on. That’s it. I’m here. I’m with you and I need you. I’ve got a full supply and I want your fangs. Only yours.

All of it was true. She had hold of the man she loved, even if he was completely out of control and breathing like a monster in heavy, full-throated rasps.