Oycher (20 page)

“Don’t speak to him, Haley,” Sage seethed, pushing her back.

“But he has wings,” she choked out, “Y-you have wings!”

Sage placed his fangs on her throat to mist her, wasting no time tossing two spinning blades at Renaldo and nailing his chest. Renaldo left them right where they were, stepping forward without staggering.

“Yes.” He cloaked his wings momentarily, showing her the heart-stopping vampire she’d met up with and had climaxed for repeatedly. “Neat trick, huh? Would you have still sucked my dick, if I’d draped you in the darkness of my wings?”

Sage pulled his fangs from her throat, throwing an immortal dagger. “You tethered her.”

“Guilty.”

“How the fuck did you cloak your wings?”

“It’s surprising what happens when you bloat yourself with immortal blood.” Or pay a fortune to learn a Druid cloaking incantation. He dropped the spell, stretching his midnight wings wide, taking blade after blade from the Vojak.

“You’re a freak!” Sage kicked out, trying to crumple Renaldo to the ground, but he merely stumbled before righting himself.

“I admire your tenacity, Vojak, but it would take a slew of you to bring me down while I’m on this level.” The power in the Vojak’s blood would satiate him for days, not that he would wait that long. The power of warriors had become his favorite flavor. He smiled in the full knowledge that his last victim’s blood stained his teeth.

“Inside this miasma, you arrogant fuck, there’s a slew of us here,” Sage seethed, broadening his stance to make a jump.

“Just like you, they didn’t sense my arrival.” Renaldo tilted his head. “You don’t hear any of them running to your rescue, do you?” The Vojak’s responsibility was a perfect distraction, his attention divided down the middle by his compassion to save the mixed blood.

Making it easy for Renaldo, Haley made a run for it. He snapped out a wing and slammed her against the wall, a flyswatter to an annoying fly. He guessed he’d broken her spine, by the sound of the snap, but remained focused on the Vojak. “Did you enjoy the calling card I placed on the beach?”

Sage sneered, tossing another spinning blade. “You’ve left so many, how could I choose my favorite?”

“Ah, we both know I’m referring to the mixed blood, the one with hair as dark as my wings. Did she remind you of anyone?”

“She reminded me of every other victim that didn’t deserve to die.” He whipped out another blade, lodging it right in Renaldo’s heart.

“Good shot.” Blood spluttered around the blade. He yanked it out and dropped it to the floor, his heart fluttering a few seconds before regenerating. “It’s time for you to pay for your sins, Vojak.” Renaldo pulled out the bejeweled dagger he’d confiscated from Isladora’s room, inhaling her scent while tossing it in his hand. “I believe you fondly referred to this as your lucky blade.”

Then he lunged.

When Terje kissed
Isladora awake, she tried to spring away from him. Terror was still fueling the part of her that was werewolf, and adrenalin still ruled the human side. So she was a mess. He cupped her face in his big hands, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. “Everything’s good, the area is clear.”

She realized she was back inside the Donor complex, on the floor and nestled in his lap. But nothing could soothe the grim images ramrodding through her head. “Is H-haley okay?”

“Sage was with her, and both are gone. We figured he misted her out when the hounds descended.”

“Call him.”

“We have. Sage doesn’t answer. Haley’s brother is leading a search for her now.” He winked at her. “Give it time and patience.”

“Where’s Oycher?”

“Making connections to take you into hiding.” Terje’s eyes were wide and beautiful, the arctic blue illuminating his irises like blinking stars in his winter prince face. “I was attacked by those hounds the first night I met you.” He leaned his head against the wall, undoubtedly contemplating what he should tell her.

“Just say it.”

“The hounds seemed to pointedly seek me out among the others, and, according to Oycher, they nearly decapitated me.”

“No,” she whispered, her heart pounding at the thought of ever losing him. “You were pale, but you didn’t tell me how badly you had been hurt.” He just stared down at her dejectedly. “What?”

“Even considering the six months he had to plan his mercenary kills, Renaldo wasn’t exactly the gifted hunter we first thought he was.”

Fear blanketed her body, and she clasped the locket and star dangling from her throat. “He blames me.”

Terje shook his head. “That psychotic letter he left mentioned nothing of you. Yet he’s been following your scent trail, one mercenary to the next, unweaving your whereabouts by using those damned hounds with their unrelenting noses.”

“H-he trained them on my scent?” she asked, but she knew the answer. A flicker of a memory finally resurfaced, her rescuer telling her to hush. That he thought the hounds were attuned to her voice. Obviously, he’d sensed something was off with the dogs. “A scent can hang around that long?”

“For these hounds, I suppose so, and we don’t know who these mercenaries are. They could be under our noses and picking up your fresh scent with each new encounter.”

“Oh, God.”

“I know, baby.” Terje brushed her hair away from her forehead. “Settle down.”

She ran her hands over her body, but she couldn't find any remaining wounds. “They bit me.”

Terje trailed his finger over her shoulder. “Oycher coerced you to drink his blood while you were unconscious, and you’re completely healed. Dax is sending over a change of fresh clothes for you. Once we change locations, I’ll wash all the dried blood away.”

She blinked back tears. “Thank you for saving me from those…things.”

Terje nuzzled above her shoulder. Isla could sense him wanting to nibble and bite her in the way of males. But he didn’t go near her throat. “Always, Isladora.”

“Their eyes,” she recalled the Hounds of Cyn with a shudder, “were so ghostly. I can’t get them out of my mind.”

“That’s not the only thing you can’t get out of your mind,” Oycher said from the doorway, and her elbow smacked Terje’s chest when she rose.

Her eyes met his. Oycher was nothing short of furious. So was she! How dare he not tell her she could turn into a vampiress, a transformation that would force her to suck blood from victims’ arteries the rest of her immortal days!

His eyes narrowed, catching her thought, so she blurted something completely snarky, “A beating heart is always the best wedding gift!”

He lifted his chin a fraction. “It's the first of many headed your way.”

She wiped away a tear. “Did you at least wash your hands?”

“Could it possibly make you loathe me more if I hadn’t?” He stepped into the room. Oycher’s eyes were alight, glowing with a ferocity she could barely understand. Sure, his Vojak had simmered down, but the blistering rage of creatures attacking his newfound Bride didn’t sit well with the Commanding Vojak. And his need for vengeance bled through his eyes.

“If you can read my mind,” Isla snapped as she jumped out of Terje’s lap, “then you know I don’t loathe you.” She started pacing.

“Allow me to amend that,” Oycher kept going. “You wish that you could hate me, another vampire who has suckled at your throat.”

No, she didn’t wish she could hate him. Then another thought hit her. “When I was rescued, the other vampires said I was tethered. That they couldn’t mist me. How could you?”

He seemed genuinely relieved, his shoulders relaxing. “Well, that’s good to know. At least, that’s one way I can’t lose you to another. I’m your soul mate. Your mind and body may have fought me, but your soul came willingly. No tether can trump true mates.”

“Werewolves cannot do that, by the way,” Terje explained, “mist anyone, even their mates. I would have had to run with you. Of course, if Oycher hadn’t misted in, that’s what I would have done.”

She asked curiously, “That’s what the others were waiting for?”

Terje stood. “We didn’t know if Renaldo was going to swoop in on the action. You and the other surrounding females were at great risk, and we were circling all outer perimeters to ready for his entry point. But he never showed.”

“This is beside the point,” Oycher glided up to her. “How many times are you going to run from me, Nevesta? After we first met, you took off from the complex, fitfully running from me, and embedded yourself in a tree.” His fangs lowered. “And tonight, when I had you on a rooftop, several stories off the ground so I can get a visual on our co-mate and attackers, what did you do?” He held his hands wide. “You kick me and shimmy down the side of the building like a cat burglar!”

She shook her head. “I don't remember any shimmying.”

He jabbed a finger at her. “For future reference, if you ever kick me in the nuts again, you’re going straight over my knee for the spanking of your lifetime.”

Isla jutted her chin. “For future reference, I don’t like liars or evaders. I stood in this very building tonight and asked you straight-up about the vampiric ceremony. You didn’t come clean.”

His lips curved. “Well, isn’t it obvious that you weren’t ready for that pill of information?”

“Would you have even told me beforehand, or would you have waited and explained after the ceremony?” She waved her hands around. “Oh, by the way, Isla, you have fangs now. Bon Appétit!”

Oycher sighed. “Sweet Isladora, you want to know what I hear all the time from the minds of females?”

“Besides the obvious,” she replied, tears still streaming her cheeks, “that they want to sleep with you?”

Oycher didn’t take the bait. “Some want to be carried.” His beads rattled when he walked in the human way, closing the distance between them. “Some want to run,” he stopped and looked at her pointedly. “Some simply stand on their own as long as they can feel the grass grow beneath their feet: stable, secure, stases, no change.” He rolled those massive shoulders, when he reached out and cupped her elbows with gentle hands. “Some want to fight, and others want to soar.”

She pressed her fingers to her temple, wanting to block him from her thoughts. “Stop it.”

“And you? You. Want. Me. The human side of you wants me to take you in my arms and hold you like a man holds a woman. You want me to fuck you in every way I can. Not as a man, though, that part of you wants it the way an immortal male can give it to you. But this?” He waved his hand over his open mouth, breathing through his fangs. “Is where you have the problem, isn’t it? You see long teeth and a hearty appetite. Well, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to feed from you. that’s a given between a vampire and his Bride. I want to drink from you so badly that I would kill for the honor, but I’ll be damned if it’ll hurt you the way you’re remembering it from some fanged assholes.”

Her brow furrowed. “I hate that feeling.”

“I know.”

“And I don’t want to be on the other end of it, feeding from others.”

“That, I also know. I see it in your head. Nevertheless, did you stop to think that I would only feel comfortable with you feeding from Terje or myself? Did you really think I would expect you to take the essence of others, when it would be my privilege to provide for what’s mine?”

Isla hadn’t traveled that far in her thoughts. She’d been too furious at Oycher. “It’s still frightening.”

His voice softened, “I understand your mind’s going in one direction and your body can’t catch up, but you shouldn’t have run from me. Ever.” Oycher tilted his chin, searching her with blazing-ocher eyes. He raked them over her, lingering on some areas more than others. He lifted his hand, slowly dragging the tip of his index finger down her tear-stained cheek. He took one step forward. She stumbled back, until she could go no further.

“You know why I can’t trust any vampire,” she admitted honestly. “It’s in me to run, and I’ll probably do it again.”

Oycher flattened his hand against the wall by her head as he leaned his warrior’s body down to close the great height distance between them. He spoke evenly in a language she didn’t understand but ended with English, “Then run to me.”

Isla’s breath hitched, sawing in and out of her lungs. Her eyes flared across his body, illuminating him in blue, as she pulled his face to hers, cradling his whiskered jaw in her hands. He kept his fangs down, refusing to retract them. And she worked through another moment of hesitation. But she finally pressed her lips to his, softly at first. That is, until a wave of surrender crashed inside her body.

She hooked her leg around Oycher’s hip, an arm around his neck, and she swung high. “You’re right,” she mumbled between kisses, “about almost everything.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Can you risk transforming to meld our souls and complete our bond?”

“I’m…confused.” She pulled away from his mouth, glancing at a concerned but quiet Terje. Isla had committed to an eternity with him. Could she risk turning into a vampiress for Oycher?  She looked back at Oycher.

They engaged in an immediate stare-down.

“The rest is up to you, moja žena.” He shook his head dismally. “Reach for your daisy and pick the final petal: You want me. You want me not. You want me. Decide. Soon.”

Dax walked inside the Donor complex, carrying a small bag. “Here’s some clothes, Isladora.”

Her lip quivered, and Oycher wanted to cradle her in his arms and tell her he’d wait forever. But after seeing her mauled between two hounds, he would no longer take any chances. Even if this situation hadn’t come about, any of Oycher’s enemies could try and take her from him. Permanently. Sure, Terje could mate with her under the full moon and make her immortal, but that mating wouldn’t change Isla into a werewolf. So it was understandable that he wanted her transformed into a vampiress, where she would be stronger, tougher, and harder to kill. This wasn’t a selfish move on his part. On the contrary, he was thinking solely of her. Because even if she didn’t accept him, it was no longer a secret that Isladora Harris was his weakness, and his Bride would always be a major target.

“Thanks, Alpha.” She gave Oycher another sad look and accepted the clothes. “Any word from Haley?”