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

  “Why did you do it? Why?” Bren stomped his foot forward, and Tatum jumped behind Jayce. Jayce turned around and stared down at her. Without a word, he grabbed her elbow and pulled her back against his chest. In her confusion, she wanted him. No matter what he’d done, she was sorry she’d turned him away when he’d first come for her all those weeks ago.

  While holding her arms, he swung her back around to face a snarling Bren. She was startled at the rage on Bren’s face. Even more startling was the fact that Jayce let her go. His strong hand pushed her forward, causing her to stumble. She glanced sideways and he laughed, the scent of that damned brew emanating from his breath.

  “Every time I like a girl, Troy Hillman gets his hands on her. But you” — Bren seared Tatum with a heated stare — “were supposed to be different.” An animalistic growl left his lips.

  “Troy?” Tatum questioned in disbelief. “So I made out with Troy. We only kissed, and you’re not my boyfriend.”

  Determined, Bren stomped forward, not satisfied with her answer. When she made to run, he blocked her exit. “Why did you choose him over me? What can he give you that I can’t?”

  “You’re crazy, Bren,” she hissed. “Are you wasted? You have no right to ask about Troy!” As the moon shifted, an odd glow veiled Bren’s face. The same one she’d witnessed at the store, though she had dismissed it as her imagination. His growl, soft in the night, frightened her. Tatum backed away and slowly shook her head. Jayce’s hand went around her. “Wasted or crazy, which is it, Bren?”

  She fought to escape, but Jayce wouldn’t let her go. His hands firmed the span of her arms and held her tight against his chest. Another guy was lingering deep in the shadows. When he stepped out and clasped her elbow, his black claws dug into her arm.

  “Come with me,” his breath touched her ear, warm and sweet. He hadn’t been drinking.

  Tatum shivered with the contact. “I can’t.” She turned and watched the bluest eyes diffuse and blink away in disappointment. Without another word, Jill’s Motorcycle Man misted into the night, disappearing into an unnatural fog.

  “Mike!” Jayce called after him. “Get back here! Jill’s brothers are still after you.”

  Rumbling laughter hit Tatum from all sides before she heard, “Not tonight.” Rannan Holm stepped from the marsh, Xhaiden, Padg, and Mabon marching behind him. “First, we have matters to settle with you, Alpha Boy.”

  Over the past week, Mike had been misting. He stared down at his retracted claws, the ones that had scared Tatum, and realized the only way he could take her out of this situation would be if he were to go into mid-transformation.

  Mike felt his claws protract, his canines lower, and his muscles expand as his body moved into mid-transformation. In a half-mist, he took Tatum from a surprised Jayce and growled his disapproval at the way she’d been treated by Jayce and Bren. They were half-pissed, drinking too much of their homemade brew, and had gone too far. Horribly frightening her when she deserved nothing short of tender pampering was inexcusable. Not to mention, they’d basically exposed their species to a mixed blood who knew nothing of their world, whose family wanted her ignorance of immortals to remain in check .

  Tatum spun in his arms, pushing at his chest, but he refused to release her. Mike stared at her blue eyes, the color distinctive of werewolf blood, and said, “I’m taking your home.”

  As fighting broke out, Mike’s altered appearance seemed the least of her concerns and she nodded her agreement. “Please. Please. I…I must be drunk.”

  This he would allow her to believe. “I’ll sneak you through your bedroom window, okay?” He lifted her high in his arms and took off in a dead run, distancing them from the marsh. If Jayce kept the fight going, the Beta would be notified and Mike wanted Tatum far from there.

  “How do you know…where I live?” She closed her eyes against the blurring of trees and foliage. His speed making her nauseous but he couldn’t slow his pace, not until she was safely tucked inside her house. The only thing Mike couldn’t do was wash his scent from her.

  As he turned right before the causeway, a rush of wind blew across his face, a gust of wings, stirring Tatum’s blonde locks over his shoulder. Tightening his arms around Tatum, he looked up to find a flicker of midnight wings absorbing the darkness of the night. “Fuck off, Gryph!” he snarled, picking up his pace. Tatum raised her head from his chest and searched Mike with questioning eyes, her shaky hand moving to cup his face, before she fell into a sudden, deep sleep. When her heart slowed to a steady rhythm, his pounded until he thought it would break apart.

  This was a nightmare come to life.

  “What the hell did you do to her?” Adjusting his grip on Tatum, he reached for the hilt of his only knife tucked inside his waistband. He threw it high with startling accuracy.

  A snap of wings sounded directly above before the weight of the creature hit the ground. Just like a cat, the Gryph stood upright. Mike stopped before he smacked into its chest, still maintaining his white-knuckled hold on Tatum. In complete silence, the Gryph reached the tip of its right wing and inched out Mike’s blade, spinning it between his fingertips.

  “Impressive shot, Mike Carter, you needn’t your eyes in order to aim. A rare find in any creature, particularly a werewolf.”

  Mike was only looking for a shortcut to get around the thing, buying him some time to get Tatum home. He knew these creatures, knew he couldn’t kill one while in his Youngling status and probably not even when he reached adulthood. “Why are you interested in me, a Youngling Beast is nothing to your kind?” His blood grew cold in his veins, chugging through his heart at his subsequent thought. “Or is it her? If you insist on feeding, take every drop I have. Don’t touch her.”

  “Aye, Beast, your father forgot to teach you the most important rule a male in our world should know when protecting a female. Never show your weakness.” He tilted his head at Tatum. “In your case, she would be at risk.” He stepped closer, curling his wings around Mike and Tatum, filling the air with a peculiar yet reassuring warmth. “If you were to have enemies, that is.”

  Mike realized the Gryph was messing with his head. His Youngling mind wasn’t strong enough to fight off a vampire from the Dynasty’s Royal Guard. “Go…away.” In the distance, he heard pounding boots, followed by shouts from their Pack’s angry Beta.

  “You will give her to me. Then, I will do my best to muddle her mind from remembering your part in whatever happened due to the carelessness of your youthful Species.”

  Mike’s arms grew lax as the vampire took Tatum, but he could do nothing to stop him, his mind unable to control his will. “Please. Don’t take her. Please. She… is innocent.”

  “She will stay that way while she’s with me.” The Gryph promised, adjusting his hold on Tatum and then curling his free arm around Mike’s waist before they went airborne, flying low and swift between the palm trees.“You will tell no one of this. Ever.”

  “Why would I trust you?”

  The Gryph stared down at Mike, his black wings gliding through the salty air with lush pride. “I never asked you to trust me.”

  Chapter 5

  Mike jumped from sleep, reaching out and finding the richly woven duvet belonging to his dorm bed wrapped around him. He lifted an eye to the nightstand, greatly relieved to see he had an hour before his first lesson started. He pushed away from the plush pillows begging him to stay, before his half-lidded eyes fell to Bren’s unmade bed. An unusual sight for this time of the morning, not that Bren ever made his bed in the first place.

  He stepped into the bathroom, splashed his face, loaded up his toothbrush, and went to work on his…canines. “Oh, shit,” he mumbled through a mouth of white foam, spitting it in the sink. Glancing down, he sucked in a sharp breath. His be-spelled tattoos were completely missing.

  A rap sounded on Mike’s door, an adult werewolf standing on the other side. The Headmaster had come to call. Mike rubbed his eyes as flashes of the prior night sped throu
gh his mind. Bits and pieces he hadn’t the time to puzzle together. But there was one thing he certainly remembered: Tatum Shirley had been with him. Then nothing, he remembered only slivers. Fear made its way through Mike’s body, icing his bones. Whenever he pushed inside his head, he stumbled against block after block. This only meant one thing.

  Vampire.

  “You do realize that by my knocking I’m giving you respect that you haven’t yet earned,” The Headmaster said so softly that Mike’s hair stood on his arms.

  “Was…in the bathroom.” He threw on a long-sleeved T-shirt to cover his missing tattoos, stepped into his jeans, and laced up his boots. Nothing about his ensemble was up to school code, but he knew he didn’t need his uniform where he was headed. Mike opened the door to meet his doom. But he didn’t care about what was going to happen to him, he only cared about what had happened to his bonny Tatum. If he didn’t find out in the next five minutes, he was leaving the Academy and hunting her. It was his job to protect the one he thought could be potentially his, his honor to do so, and something had gone terribly wrong. “Good morning, Headmaster,” he greeted in a nondescript voice.

  The Headmaster never smiled, but, on this particular morning, his grimace was overstated. “Not today, it isn’t.”

  In heavy silence, they crossed the corridor to reach the second landing. As they descended the main staircase, Mike’s heart skipped with each press of his boots, sensing the awareness of eyes watching him from every open floor circling the rotunda. When they passed the main dining hall, all forks seemed to stop, not even the clearing of a throat was heard. When would he ever not be a spectacle? Second thoughts pressed him. He should have stayed with Ciaran, hidden in the Everglades where he could run free and avoid this place.

  But then he wouldn’t have met Tatum.

  God, what had happened to Tatum?

  He couldn’t wait any longer, his werewolf stirring inside and growling restlessly. “Headmaster, if you will, please tell me -”

  “Silence,” he snarled quietly from behind, herding Mike to his office.

  When they turned the last corner, Mike was instantly aware of what perplexed the Headmaster. At first sight, he caught a glimpse of Alpha Jordan in his most human form, though his eyes were flaring a startling blue. Anger singed the air, the Alpha’s rage stifling, smelling of burning sulfur. Nevertheless, the stench was nothing comparable to what Mike had encountered daily living under his supposed father’s roof, a home filled with such hatred it stifled the scraps of love his mother randomly gifted him.

  “Inside, Carter,” Ardan’s rumbling voice demanded, shaking a nearby painting hanging on the wall. “Join us.” His head canted, his eyes resting on Jayce and Bren kneeling on bended knees. Behind them, Jill’s four brothers kneeled as well. “I insist.”

  “Yes, My Alpha.” Mike kneeled.

  “Alpha, Mr. Shirley has arrived,” the Headmaster spoke quietly though urgently.

  “Well, send him in.” Ardan then asked, “Mike Carter, do you have anything to say to your new Pack, to your Alpha?”

  He had no clue, however, years of lashings taught him the only acceptable answer. “I beg for forgiveness.”

  “And?”

  Mike shifted nervously. “I…” Words failed him for he had no idea what he’d done last night. “You are certainly at an advantage, Alpha.”

  Alpha Jordan inhaled sharply, undoubtedly scenting Mike was forthcoming and not deceiving. “Witnesses say you absconded with Tatum Shirley last night.” Ardan pulled out an envelope, the one Ciaran had addressed to him. The very one Mike had been carrying around for months, yet he hadn’t the courage to open it. His breath left him when he realized the seal remained. “This was located at the scene” — he stopped, glaring at each Youngling - “of yet another fight among you. What must I do, show you my true wrath? It would kill you before my claws touched your flesh. Is this what I expect to see in the future, Pack males fighting Pack males? What will become of your females then, your Younglings? Have you thought of the alliances you're shattering amongst yourselves. Have you ever heard the human adage regarding burning bridges?”

  “Well, they’ve certainly burned any bridges with me,” a solemn voice spoke from the threshold. “I stayed out of Pack for a reason, and still your males circle my two oldest daughters.”

  Ardan nodded. “I tender my apologies and these males are here to tender theirs.”

  “With all the respect I can muster, Ardan, I want no apologies from any of you,” Tatum’s father snarled in the way of the werewolf. “I want action.”

  “Tatum is unharmed,” Ardan argued. “Might I remind you, my Beta checked her personally? My threshold for delving out physical punishment is high.”

  “I’m not asking for you to beat them, Ardan,” Mr. Shirley said wearily. “I’ve petitioned, twice now, for your Younglings to stay away from my daughters. I haven’t been taken seriously.”

  “What might I offer you in recompense?”

  “I’m out of town quite often, so I want a team of guards from your Beta’s bloodline protecting my daughters from these little savages,” he demanded without hesitation.

  Ardan inclined his head. “Consider it done.”

  Mr. Shirley held up one finger. “In addition, I want an addendum to my petition stating that if any of these Younglings step within one-hundred yards of any of my three daughters, they will be chained for one-hundred years.”

  “You’re pushing me.” Ardan crossed his arms. “That’s never a wise move, Shirley. To end this, I will agree to an addendum to your petition stating that if any of these particular Younglings step within one-hundred yards of any of your three daughters before they leave Youngling status, they will be chained for one year.”

  “One year is nothing in the lifespan of an immortal.”

  Ardan held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Unbeknown to them, I have revoked their rights to Tribal Inflixx for eternity.” The Younglings couldn’t withhold their collective gasps, evoking their rights to Inflixx was the pinnacle of shame. What would their future Mates think when they wore no piercings for bravery? “You’ve chosen not to expose your daughters to our world. I take it seriously when one of my Pack members exposes our species.” He leaned forward, hands now on his hips. “Are we finished, Shirley?”

  Tatum’s father nodded his head, glancing at them all. Undoubtedly memorizing their faces. “Stay the hell away from my girls, all of you!” He stormed out, seething.

  “Well, there’s nothing like starting off the day with a good helping of humiliation,” Ardan barked, gesturing for them to stand. “I thank all of you for embarrassing your Alpha and his Pack thoroughly. Leave, except for Carter, Walker, and Jordan.”

  Mike watched the Holm brothers file out, nearly trampling over one another to get to the door.

  Jayce started up his mouth the second the door closed. “Dad, listen, they started the fight in the marsh -”

  “Witnesses say you were getting drunk.” Ardan nodded at Bren. “You, too. Then you scared the hell out of a mixed-blood female you were expressively told not to touch, one not under Pack’s protection. It’s over and decided. I will argue this no more.”

  Jayce dropped to his knees again, humbled in a way Mike had never before seen of him. “I don’t think this was just misplaced anger towards Tatum. I…I think it was possession and that she’s mine, Dad. And if she is…Don’t do this.”

  “I feel the same way about her. I’ve never treated a female so badly. God, I screamed in her face,” Bren whispered hoarsely, dropping back down alongside Jayce. “Still, Alpha, might you reconsider? You’re asking us to wait nearly eight years before we can go near her again.”

  Jayce swallowed roughly. “Anything can happen in eight years, Dad, anything.”

  “So I should allow my son to do what others cannot? You’re fortunate Tatum Shirley only remembers a fragment of what went on last night. In her mind, she woke from a horrific nightmare containing a flash of canin
es, a swipe of claws. Part of her memory of last night’s events may eventually return; let’s hope not. Witnesses disclosed you. Remember that next time. As my son, as my son’s friends, you will be watched more than any other males. Lead by example. All will wait for you to take the fall, coveting those times, even if they are undeserved.”

  In that moment, everything that happened last night rushed over Mike. Jayce and Bren were drunk, snarling around her, scaring her. Telling her she should have chosen Bren over a human named Troy Hillman. The only thing Mike had done was to try and save her from them, to cart her away. She’d refused. Then, when the fighting had broken out, Mike had taken her anyway, only to take her home to the safety of her father. Nothing, absolutely nothing of his behavior warranted any punishment. But he’d been placed at the scene. No doubt he’d been reported as running in mid-transformation. Now, Ardan Jordan held the very letter that would change Mike’s life in his hands, and Mike wondered if he finally had the courage to read it.

  “I’ll tell you what’s going to happen in these next years, Younglings,” Ardan growled, flashing his Beast. “You’re going to grow the fuck up! And you,” he said to Mike, waving the sealed letter in his hand. “Why do you carry the seal of the dismantled Scottish Pack scented with none other than the dethroned Alpha?”

  “Respectfully, the content of that letter is of a personal nature and does not divulge anything of Scotland’s horrific plight.” Mike couldn’t lie to an Alpha who could scent deceit, though, currently, Mike didn’t know exactly where Ciaran resided inside the Everglades. Therefore, he added, “I haven’t his current location, Alpha, though you must realize he’s in the states.”

  Ardan walked to the door, his heavy boots clipping the stone floor. “When Ciaran gave you this correspondence, you must have known that we have been searching high and low for him.” Surprisingly enough, he handed the letter back to Mike.