Sanibel Alpha Vampire Werewolf Menage (Fanged Romance Series Book 5.5) Read online

  Maestru opened his front door right as Mike raised his hand to knock. “You stink of Gryph blood,” the Coven Master said in his patent lazy tone, his chest bare and branded with midnight wings. “What brings you so idiotically close to my female?”

  He handed Maestru Ciaran’s letter. Unlike Bren, Maestru appeared indifferent, but he’d had centuries to pull off the perfect poker face. “Coven Master, I’m here to request a favor from you.” He’d dealt with Maestru before, knew how the vampire worked. “And if you agree, any payment required will come entirely from me, not Tatum, Jayce, or Bren,” he added as a careful afterthought, “or Ardan.”

  Only then did Maestru’s expression change, delivering a look of pure hatred. “As if I collect from infants.” Then the Coven Master glanced longingly up his main staircase, where Mike scented a female on the second floor. With a sigh, Maestru then stepped outside on his porch, closing the colossal, front door behind him. “You’re fortunate I’m in a reasonable mood, Dog.”

  Chapter 12

  “My werewolf is cracking the inside of my skull, dying to kick some serious vampire ass.” Mike glanced at the Commanding Vojak to his left, amending, “Present company not included.”

  “What am I supposed to do with you?” Oycher hissed in the way of vampires, his long fangs gleaming in the moonlight. “You’re making my fangs throb. Instead of taking a decent-sized plug out of your arrogant, werewolf ass, I will remind you that you’re here for a specific reason.” He steadied his breathing, clutched his floor-length cloak against his throat, and glided across a secretive marsh humans would never find unless the vampires allowed them access.“Yes, you’re young. But certainly, you can control your Beast for one measly night. How hard can it be?”

  “Are you mated, Vojak?”

  Oycher kept walking. “No.”

  He could hear the edge of loneliness in the vampire’s simple reply. Mike was past the edge of loneliness, had jumped off that mental cliff when he’d screwed up with Tatum, now she was giving him another chance at life. “Then how can you possibly understand how I feel?” Oycher stayed quiet so Mike admitted, “I have never stepped foot in a joint faction meeting, much less entered any realm belonging to bloodsuckers.”

  Instead of insulting Oycher, the mention of blood got the vampire’s stomach growling, encouraging his fangs to drip. Still, Oycher laughed. “Whether you’ve gone to this meeting or entered that realm, who cares? Whatever you’ve done before, you’re here now. And now is what matters.” A dock appeared showing the entrance of the miasma, where a silvery shimmer slid apart. “You have to know that you are unwelcome here.” They crossed through, entering Prince Volos’ realm. “A fair warning, Mike Carter, I may be the Commanding Vojak, but there’s only so much I can do to protect you if everything starts falling apart.”

  Jude Faden slid through the miasma behind them, dispatching a cold stare Mike had never seen on his cousin, apart from in battle. “What the fuck, Mike? I’m head of Tatum’s security, not you. Why are you doing this?”

  “I stand corrected.” Oycher’s gliding faltered, his booted feet hitting the damp ground, the high grass instantly soaking the hem of his cloak. He shook his head dismally. “Bringing two pureblood werewolves in Prince Volos’ realm, there’s absolutely nothing I can do to protect both of you without consequence. No matter what Maestru ordered of me, I’m no one’s Trojan Horse.”

  Mike ignored Oycher and said to Jude, “You may be the head of her security, but I’m her Mate. Step aside. As far as she’s concerned, I have precedence.”

  “No,” Jude growled, “I do. Tatum is the mother of the next appointed Alpha. What -”

  “Might I remind you that the next appointed Alpha is also my son?” Mike got up in Jude’s face. He stopped short of baring his canines, his Beast still fought to challenge his cousin. But a fight amongst family wouldn’t resolve anything but only create undue tension.

  Oycher glanced between the two, raising an amused brow though saying nothing.

  Jude’s face softened uncharacteristically, his silver eyes so much like Ciaran’s glinting in the moonlight. “I swear that you’re trying to get yourself killed.”

  “Now, Jude, you know that won’t happen until I complete one final task.”

  Jude growled. “You’re not going in without backup.” He thrust his fingers through his caramel-colored hair and glanced back at the sliver of miasma that had already enclosed them inside serious vampire territory. “Apparently, I’m the only real coverage you have.”

  Oycher blew them a sarcastic kiss. “My feelings are hurt.”

  Jude spoke over him, “And, Mike, just so you know, many in our family think you’ve maddened during your time away from your female. I’m starting to think that they’re right.”

  Ciaran hadn’t thought that at all, Mike mused. In fact, his Alpha cousin had taught him to utilize his inherent powers quite effectively, plus a lesson or two about fighting dirty with prison rules. He sighed and started walking. “We’re wasting time standing here, Jude. Come on.”

  In deadened silence, they ascended marble steps in the human way, which led to a tunnel carved through soil and roots as thick as Mike’s forearm. The whole underground system was horridly amazing, the intricate power pulsating all around him. After another flight up shingle-styled steps, they reached what Mike assumed was the final surface. Nothing could have prepared him for the majesty that was Prince Volos’ castle. Rumors circulated, claiming this structure had been here since the beginning of time. He cocked a brow at Jude. Jude shook his head back, both thinking the same thing. As amazing as their current surroundings were, they hated this, being forced to enter the Dynasty’s holier-than-thou court, where Dynasty Vampyrs lived in their olden ways, perpetually drunken on nearly unchallengeable power. After all, they were the first generation of the vampire race.

  Oycher motioned for them to follow. Mike stared at the moon in silence, absorbing its power, and then met Oycher’s orange-eyed gaze, his gait fluid yet tense. Most vampires were just as tall as werewolves but somewhat leaner in their most human forms, not Oycher. In his most human form, he was as large as most werewolves, exceptionally large for a vampire. Understandable since Vojaks were born of warriors’ bloodlines. Mike blinked as Oycher’s fangs slid down. “Vojak, I’m not your dinner.” Oycher smiled that particular vampire’s smile Mike had seen one too many times to count, and he didn’t like it one bit.

  “I’m thirsty and horny,” Oycher said unabashedly. “I plan on finding a wet female or two once were inside, but I’m saving my other appetite for you two. I love the flavor of power.”

  Great, Mike and Jude owed Oycher a Blood Debt for this evening’s festivities. He hated dealing with vampires, being earmarked for payments that were always set too high. On the heels of that thought, the scent of shifty business hit his nose. “Rannan has been here recently,” he growled, heading for an opening positioned between two limestone buildings, spying a few vampire Younglings disappearing into a sleekly hidden cavern beneath the ground. Indeed, this was the club Bane had spoken of. “His scent is quite strong here. Perhaps he lives close by. Let’s go inside, wait, and see if he shows up.”

  “I have a better idea.” Oycher slid out his favorite short blade, flicking it in agitation with one hand, holding Mike’s shoulder with the other. “Let’s have a little run-down before we enter, shall we?”

  Half an hour later, Jude slid a female between them. “What’s your name, lass?” He lifted the female’s delicate hand to his mouth, thrusting his tongue between her fingers.

  “Joy,” she whispered on a shiver, shutting her burnished copper eyes as pleasure swirled through her body. Jude had a way with females.

  And so did Oycher.

  “Hmm.” Oycher leaned his head to her throat, nipping her porcelain skin with his dagger-like fangs, his hands deliberating stroking her sides, expert thumbs easing over her pebbling breasts. “Is there a promise in your name, Joy?”

  “Maybe,”
she answered breathlessly, eyeing Jude hungrily while reaching back and tugging on Oycher’s beaded hair. Vampires, whether half human or not, enjoyed the pretty. The three of them delivered her an optical feast she couldn’t deny. Hopefully, Joy would give them the distraction they needed inside this devil’s sub club, so Mike could secure his intended target.

  His werewolf remained uneasy and wholly alert in this club where, tonight, civilian vampires remained the majority. Only a few werewolves were in attendance and they were mixed bloods, just as Bane had said. Mike glanced to the side, noting three more vampires gliding in — legitimate, pure-blood Royal Gryphs, their hungry winged bodies pushing through the wall-to-wall crowd. Fucking and sucking were all they wanted. With a ready audience, that is. If Oycher noticed the Gryphs arriving, he didn’t show it. Even so, the Gryphs hadn’t glanced Mike and Jude’s way once.

  This didn’t mean they weren’t noticed or scented.

  No matter what happened next, Mike could never go back to Tatum without killing Rannan first. A threat to her was a threat to him. Then Mike realized that he'd stood too quietly for too long. Vampires slowed their actions, beginning to stare at Mike suspiciously. Oycher nudged him. Tamping down his rising Beast, Mike moved closer to Joy, allowing her head to ease back against his shoulder, though quickly stopping her rounded ass from cradling his cock by steadying her swaying hips with his hands. The shock of intimacy with another female besides his mate was sickening.

  “I’ve never had a Commanding Vojak,” Joy whispered as Oycher slid her top over her head, exposing her braless torso. Her nipples were dark, the mounds small and pert. She swallowed hard as Jude took a nipple between his canines, sucking until she pierced her bottom lip with her tiny fangs. “And…never, ever a pureblood werewolf,” she continued in breathless awe.

  “When given the opportunity, one should always run,” Mike whispered against Joy’s ear, scraping her tender lobe with one canine, the taste of her entirely wrong for his palate.

  “I was told never to run from a werewolf.” She laughed nervously as Jude nipped the tender flesh beneath her nipple. Oycher slid down and lapped her opposite nipple with the pointed tip of his tongue.

  “Where’s the fun in that?” With one hand, Mike cuffed her wrists inside his long fingers, pulling them behind her back and squeezing just shy of pain. With the other, he slid his fingers over Joy’s mouth, silencing her throatier moans as Jude set to removing her skirt. Even though she was a vampire halfling, he knew she was tempted to bite him, felt her tiny fangs lengthen against his fingertips.

  Oycher must have sensed her hunger, his ocher eyes illuminating her body as he stared up from between her breasts. “The Beast’s blood is promised to me this night, vampiress,” he warned, hissing in the way of vampires. “Don’t slip up.”

  “I w-won’t, Commander,” she promised, then her knees melted when Oycher spread her legs for Jude to take her pussy with his mouth. When her weight dropped, Mike supported her middle, watching as the Gryphs moved to the only back room in this open-sexed theater for the debauched. Lowering their midnight wings, they stepped inside without any females accompanying them.

  Oycher moved back around to Joy’s ass, Mike leaning to the side to give him room as he still held her in an upright position. Even with one of his larger hands clasped around her tiny wrists, she still managed to wiggle her fingers to make a grab for Mike’s zipper. In a move that was purely vampire, Oycher rolled her to where he was behind her, against the wall. Mike was completely moved out of the way, and Jude had her front with her naked limbs wrapped around him. Instantly, Jude's cock was out of his pants and buried inside her. In this club for voyeurs and their toys, the sound of Joy’s slick cunt sucking Jude all the way to her womb caught marked attention. Witnessing a female in the throes of carnal ecstasy, scenting the smell of her charged sex, and sharing the bond of multiple partners as they came as one heated the circling crowd like gasoline on a blowtorch.

  Oycher had his cock in hand, his circlet piercing spinning over a sizable erection, even for an immortal. But, again, he was a large vampire. Joy reached for Jude’s throat, opening her blood red mouth to feed as he pumped inside her.

  Jude clasped her face with one hand. “Lass, you will not feed from me.” He then pulled his dick out so Oycher could thrust in and coat his cock with Joy’s cream.

  Joy said to Jude, “You must be of alpha bloodlines.”

  “It matters not what blood flows through me.” Jude resumed his position at her entrance, thrusting hard. “You will not drink and I will not hurt you.”

  Casually, Mike’s gaze slanted to the side, instantly scenting Rannan in the main room, a vampiress wearing nothing but gold chains was kneeling and sucking his long cock. He had his hands on either side of head, fisting her hair while filling her mouth, yet his eyes showed no pleasure.

  Particularly since they were fixed on Mike.

  Oycher glanced at Rannan and plunged his freshly lubricated shaft inside Joy’s ass. Her eyes rolled, Joy’s body continuing to make suctioning sounds well-heard above the loudness of the underground chamber. Jude pressed the tip of his thumb against her clit, circling and enticing her to relax for Oycher to slide all the way home. Mike kept his hand in front of his crotch, pretending to adjust his erection while waiting his turn, though he was completely soft. Anyone would know they could put her on all fours, and he could take her mouth if space allowed. Thankfully, there wasn’t an inch to be spared between all other bodies, all of them moving and sliding in one orifice or another, as they fed from this vein and that.

  His only hope was to get Rannan to himself outside, away from the throngs of vampires, since Jude and he were seriously outnumbered. Rannan clenched his jaw, spilling his seed inside the female’s mouth. His arrogance kept him on display, his lack of fear over Mike’s intent blatant. Creatures, such as he, were the most dangerous of all, when they had nothing left to lose.

  Oycher continued to fuck Joy’s tiny ass. By the look of unbridled ecstasy on the vampire’s face, she was as tight as glove. “If you were mine,” Oycher groaned, resting his forehead against her throat, “I would make sure you had unmistakable marks across your body, and I would flog whoever looked at you with ravishment in their eyes.” He thrust three times, his moves slow and calculated. Even as she clawed for him to hurry, the vampire took her safety into consideration as he obviously did not want to hurt her beyond erotic pain, ensuring her pleasure just as much as he ensured his own.

  Jude’s cock drew from her nether lips, the head beaded with pre-ejaculation, the tip wet and shiny as Oycher continued to fuck her ass. Jude then worked an opposite rhythm inside her sex, him pumping in as Oycher pulled out. She hissed like a kitten, her head lolling on Oycher as he and Jude then plunged together, filling her at the same time, her pussy and ass quivering towards her orgasm.

  Surprise, surprise, when he turned, he found Rannan heading towards the door leading to the back room. Oycher was panting between his fangs, glancing at the back door, his orgasm leaving his body only because he was hurrying. Jude managed to choke out a load next, tugging on Joy’s swollen nub with the backs of his claws as he did. With a swivel to his hips, he ground his Tribal Inflixx inside her dripping pussy and polished her off while demanding, “Start screaming, vampiress.”

  This she did for what felt like hours to Mike’s sensitive ears. And by the time Mike made it to the secretive door, Jude and Oycher were zipped up and walking behind him, while fresh roaming hands and eager lapping tongues were reaching for their turns as they passed through the crowd. All in attendance oblivious to everything except their next partner, their next fuck, their next feed.

  Mike flipped the ancient latch, entering a dark corridor scented with every creature imaginable. There was no left, no right, only a narrow tunnel they would have to follow through single-file.

  “I can’t scent what’s in here compared to what’s outside this door,” Oycher said as they eased down the hall, their boots sliding in w
hat smelled and felt like blood. Right when Mike lost his footing on a gruesome puddle, his body went flying over a stairwell missing its railings to accommodate the winged Gryphs.

  Jude caught his ankle as Mike swung out, his head hitting one of the narrow steps leading to a level some thirty feet below. Mike couldn’t mist out. In fact, he couldn’t even transform into his Beast. The spells inside this chamber were dangerous, tamping him down. “Can’t you pull me up?” Mike asked, wiping blood from his eyes as Jude’s grip started slipping, watching Oycher also reach out to pull him back.

  “No, but I can help you down,” Rannan said suddenly, sinking his fangs into Mike’s throat, tugging his flesh the opposite way of Jude’s hold on his ankle.

  Having no other choice, Jude released. Instead of falling to his death and leaving his trachea in Rannan’s mouth, the Gryph released his throat, wrapped his arms around him and flew high. Oycher and Jude were spinning upward on landing after landing, both releasing straight blades and hitting Rannan’s wings, with one flying dagger clipping Mike’s arm. “Give it up, Rannan. You’ve lost your siblings.”

  A dark chuckle left the Gryph’s chest. “Right, there’s absolutely none left under my rule.”

  Then a foreboding thought entered Mike’s mind, one Bane and Jayce had undoubtedly figured out in his absence. “Your halflings are circulated throughout the Academies, aren’t they? Those Younglings pretending to belong to Pack when they and their loyalties belong to rogues or maybe still the Dynasty Empire.” A chill left him as he tried in vain to reach a short blade hidden in his boot. They were nearly at the top, a rectangular door stood opened, revealing moonlight.

  “Jayce will never flush them out,” Rannan hissed, pushing higher, his wings tightening behind his broad back in order to push them through the narrowed opening.

  With blood soaked fingertips, Mike reached the very tip of his blade as Rannan and he spotted Oycher in full vampiric transformation, the spells of the chamber not hindering his Vojak abilities whatsoever. Oycher stood on the highest landing with spinning discs that resembled wide-toothed saw blades at the ready. His ocher eyes glowed in the darkness, looking between Mike and Rannan.