Her Vampire Husband (18 page)

B
LU PACED THE BEDROOM FLOOR
. She glanced at the clock. Eleven-thirty.

It seemed odd the werewolf didn’t come upon her until
exactly
midnight. That should be stuff of fiction. After all, the moon was already high and it was freaking huge.

That was the way it worked. The chime of twelve effected the change.

Nervous, she paced to stem some of her frantic energy. Creed’s bedroom was three times the size of a normal bedroom, and the soft, antique rug beneath her bare feet felt like silk. As she paced, she couldn’t help but think.

She and Creed had lingered by the pool last night for hours. In silence. Just knowing he wanted to be there, holding her, meant the world to her. And she didn’t feel so alone now.

What her father had done to her mother was unspeakable.

All this time she’d thought her mother had abandoned her, walked away without looking back. Instead, something truly evil had taken her from Blu’s life.

She wanted to approach her father about it, to seek the truth from him, but he intimidated her. What had compelled Persia Masterson to seek another man? Likely she had been treated the same way Blu had been by Amandus.

But Blu couldn’t wrap her mind around it right now. And she didn’t need to. Creed was here to protect her. From all things.

Good ol’ Creed.

He’d gone to pour a glass of whisky. She’d suggested, only half jokingly, he drink the whole bottle.

He meant to leave her alone until she called for him, or he sensed it okay to come looking for her.

Hell, she wouldn’t call for him. She’d howl.

Blu didn’t know what she would do with a vampire when she wolfed out. And that was the hard part.

Her rational human brain was about forty-percent present when in werewolf form. But that forty percent was easily muted as she surrendered to the beast’s need for whatever it was she desired. There was no keeping the beast back, or denying it.

She prayed she didn’t hurt Creed. Or scare the crap out of the vampire lord who was accustomed to taking off werewolf heads with his sword.

“L
ET’S HOLD OFF ON
approaching Ryan,” Creed said to Alexandre over the phone. “He’s aware we’re onto him now. I suspect he might scuttle out of sight for a while.”

“I’m surprised at the order,” Alexandre said. “You’re becoming soft, man. Are you losing focus on the goal?”

How to explain the conversation he’d had with Drake and the witch? And also to explain that indeed his heart had altered since before the wedding. He was fully on board with the peace pact now.

“I know what I’m doing, Alexandre. We’re not letting the wolf walk away. I want to keep a thumb on him. I don’t want that bastard making a move without us knowing about it.”

“So we plan a raid on their warehouses?”

“Have we a location where they’re keeping the stock?”

He hated using that word to describe his fellow vampires, but it was a means to distance himself from the horrendous suffering and to focus on the mission.

He could never completely distance himself. Vivid memories were impossible to erase. Rachel he had loved, not deeply, but sweetly. He had known her but three months, but that was a long time for Creed. The day he’d
gotten the call from Alexandre had been the worst he could recall for centuries. The wolves had kept her in chains for weeks. Creed had believed her away on a trip to visit her brother in India. When Alexandre had reported a rescued female vampire near death and unidentifiable, Creed had known before going to identify the body, it had to be Rachel.

“Yes, I’m sending out scouts to verify,” Alexandre said.

“Good.” Creed shook off images of the beautiful blonde vampire he’d buried only a decade earlier. “Report back in the morning.”

“Will you be answering in the morning, old man?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Full moon madness. Anything going on at your place tonight?”

“
Bonsoir,
Alexandre.” He hung up and tilted back the two fingers of whisky.

The golden liquid slid smoothly down his throat. This stuff never burned. It was that good. Smirking at Blu’s suggestion he drink the whole bottle, Creed thumbed the label.

That she was nervous about the change made him anxious.

He was in for the ride now. Completely. He’d married a werewolf out of contract, but now he took the vows seriously. He wanted to know his wife wholly.

But would tonight forever change his mind?

Maybe after a little moonlight madness, he’d be all for a war against the wolves. Would his wife become his lover as well as his destroyer?

Pouring another two fingers of whisky, he set it back with a swallow.

Rachel would have approved of Blu. The vampiress had been quiet and demure, but her secret fantasy had seen her fearless and insatiable.

“To Rachel,” he said, and tilted back another drink.

Above, at the far end of the house, a rangy howl echoed. He moved abruptly to the bottom stair. It was such a familiar call. So…wrenching. It stirred memory. Flashes of a walk through the forest one midsummer medieval night choked the breath from Creed.

“Mon Dieu.”

The wolf’s howl was very distinctive, and there were many kinds of howls, he knew, each meaning something different. This one he had only heard once before, and only now did he understand the horrible crime he’d committed.

He clutched his chest and huffed out his breath.

She sounded like a wild wolf he’d once seen in the snowy forests of Blois. Creed remembered pausing to watch as the wolf passed before him, leery and revealing teeth. It had not attacked.

Perhaps it had sensed he wielded a wolf-killing battle sword.

And yet, he had advanced. He’d slain the wolf after tracking the same longing howl through the forest. The wolf had growled at him. He’d thought it a male wolf. Well, he’d never seen a female before so hadn’t thought it anything but. And then he’d taken off its head.

“
Her
head. She’d been in heat,” he said now. “Not a threat to me. Christ, Saint-Pierre, you bastard.”

He sank to his knees on the bottom step.

The howl came again, skittering across his shoulders and down his spine. There, it dug in, clutching his bones and rattling them.

What kind of monster would slay a female? A werewolf who had only been craving love, connection, the basic needs of sexual congress. Blu would be horrified if she ever found out.

Would he be compelled to harm the werewolf tonight? An innate reaction to an enemy so ingrained he might not be able to see past the creature and to the woman he now loved?

You have changed since then. You have. Use it.

Creed nodded. “I will prove to them all I can be trusted, and as a representative of the vampire nations, that we can all be trusted.”

He stood and ascended the stairs, following the echoing howl.

His wife waited.

D
ARKNESS FILLED THE
open doorway at the end of the long, upper floor hallway. Even as Creed approached with sure strides, he could scent the musk in the air. Not offensive, yet he did recognize it as a mating scent.

Vampires had no such inclination to seek and bond with one mate, nor did they go through extensive rituals finding that mate—beyond ensuring that the mate took their bite. The bite was key. So he wasn’t sure how to approach tonight.

Since they were different species, it wasn’t a bonding ritual from Blu’s point of view, nor from his. But this coming together of two species might bond them in ways neither could anticipate.

She howled again, another low, mournful tone.

The low-pitched howl again cracked the darkness. Was she feeling confrontational?

How dared he have slain the wolf in the woods. And yet he’d been blind to all but the blood and the power of his sword back then.

Creed quickened his steps.

No battle sword was required this night. He would tame this beast with kisses and love.

He stepped into the bedroom—and was knocked to his back, arms splaying across the ancient rug. Something thumped his chest and crouched upon him.

The loose red dress she’d worn earlier stretched tight
across her breasts. Wild dark hair dangled in his face. Wicked fangs had cut through her bottom lip. A drool of blood trickled down her chin.

Still her features were human. Nothing wolfish. Yet.

Blood scent tingled in Creed’s teeth. Now would be the worst time for his fangs to come down. He didn’t want her to think he was trying to be aggressive. He imagined her werewolf saw him only as a longtooth, the enemy.

“Just walk in on me then?” she said on a growl. Her voice was deeper, throaty. “No man for me.”

A hand swiped him at the shoulder, lifting Creed and tossing him against the wall. The icy sting of a cut opened flesh and blood seeped from his shoulder. A good thing for his wanting blood hunger, because his own injury would mask the scent of her blood until he healed, which wouldn’t be long.

The werewolf waved a hand at him, long talons slashing the air. “Hey, big boy? Wanna take me on? You’re going to have to do better than that.”

She sliced a claw down the center of her dress, cutting it open to reveal her gorgeous breasts. Her muscles were tight, her abs firm and strong. Her skin glistened with perspiration. But he sensed she was
more
somehow.

Creed splayed his hands. “I don’t want to harm—”

He didn’t see the attack coming, she moved so swiftly. Putting him up against the wall, Blu held Creed under
the throat, her stretched hand tight against his Adam’s apple. His feet dangled above the floor.

She cracked a menacing smile.

Now she was making him angry.

With but a flick of her wrist, she sent him flying toward the bed. He twisted midair, his back connecting with a bedpost. It splintered and broke as he went through it.

“Oh, yes!” Blu tore off the damaged post and wielded it high. She stabbed at him, missing.

Creed managed to twist the makeshift stake from her hand. “We’re not going to stake the vampire tonight.”

A slash of talon cut through his chest and tore the shirt down one arm. Her eyes glittered. “My bad.”

It was apparent this werewolf had only dealt with the alphas from her pack. Creed had to set aside his need to be gentle with her—or take a stake to the heart.

He would need more than just cunning tonight.

A breath stirred his air magic and whipped the stake through the room. The serrated wooden tip speared the wall.

“Tricky,” she cooed. “Is that all you got?”

Swinging an arm around, he clocked Blu under the chin and thrust her across the bed. Springing on top of her, he pinned her shoulders. “You want to get laid, wolf?”

Her growl could be construed as a sexy plea. Or a pissed-off warning.

She tussled beneath him, but he sensed she did not use her full strength. She’d thrown him to the wall once already; she was no pup.

“Let’s do this,” she said on a wicked snarl.

She gripped his hair when he kissed her. Their mouths bruised one another, their fingers and limbs moved with intention, forcefully and not gently. Every movement was extreme. She kissed him wildly, demandingly, as she pumped her hips against his, bucking and asking for what she wanted.

But when he reached between her legs, she snarled and then chuckled loudly.

“Not so fast, longtooth.” In less than a blink it was he who lay beneath her, pinned by the shoulders. “You gotta earn this one.”

“I’m assuming that means you want me to get rough with you?”

She bit his lower lip and tugged. “Just try to keep up, big boy.”

She scampered off the bed and he followed, finding her mood more playful now than violent.

Had her flinging him against the wall been mere play? His shoulders still ached. And while the bite hadn’t broken skin, it had certainly amped up his hunger for rough play.

Time to get into super werewolf sex mode.

Twisting his head and cracking his knuckles, Creed crouched and caught his charging wife as she collided with his body. Claws tore through his deltoids, painfully opening the muscle.

Her fangs gnashed the air, but he knew that teasing smile.

How would he keep up with a moon-frenzied werewolf? Foreplay had become rousing real play with a dangerous edge.

Raising a hand, Creed flicked his wrist, directing his magic at her. It overtook the were and slammed her against the wall. She struggled against his unseen hold and then let out a howl. Through it all, she grinned.

Creed released his hold. She charged him. He flew out of the way and ended up on top of the dresser. She lunged for him and he jumped, leaping high and rolling midair to land on both feet.

“Nice magic tricks,” she said. “Dodge this, vampire.”

She charged. When he feinted to the left, she matched the deceptive movement and collided with him. They landed on the bed. The mattress slid, and Creed lost footing. He went down with a painful twist to his spine.

Blu’s face tilted horizontal to his. “Gotcha.” She kissed him quick, then licked her tongue from his nose up his forehead. She dashed into the darkness, leaving him groaning.

He slapped a hand over his chest, feeling the muscle already knitted back together. Hell of a way to seduce a man.

“I want to go out and run!” Blu declared.

A run? That was a big no-go. A werewolf on the loose wouldn’t sit well with the neighbors.

“Thought you wanted to have sex?” he called. Easing upright, he winced at the stunning pain strafing his back. The woman was strong. And he dared not use all his strength, no matter what.

“You can’t keep up.”

“I’m still alive. That’s got to count for something.”

He moved through the darkness, pinpointing her panting breaths. And there, the dark sweetness of her blood. With a twitch of his fingers, Creed stirred the air into a whirl and wrapped it about his wife’s body. So he could never give up his magic for personal use. Drawing her to him with a command, she landed in his arms roughly.

“Gotcha.”

The wolf growled and struggled, surprised at the sneaky move. “That’s not fair.”