Chapter Four
The sun was just coming up over the mountains as Zeppelin tossed an arm over the back of his booth, sitting across from Sheriff Mitch Owen in Hash It Out diner.
Sheriff Owen sighed, running a hand through his dark hair.
“They’re slippery bastards. My deputies have been patrolling the area every night, but lately they’ve been keeping a low profile.
Haven’t spotted them since that one slipped out of custody of my deputies.
” He scratched his chin. “Which was what, five weeks ago?”
Zeppelin took another sip of his coffee, savoring the bitter warmth as it slid down his throat.
The rich aroma mingled with the scents of bacon, maple syrup, and fresh biscuits that permeated the diner.
The diner was already filling up with the morning crowd—farmers in worn caps, office workers grabbing breakfast before heading to their cubicles, and a handful of strangers who’d stumbled upon the town’s best-kept secret.
They had to be tourists because Crimson Hollow was a remote mountain town with only a handful of roads leading in and out of it. Besides Zeppelin knew pretty much every resident who lived there.
And the fact they were dressed like they were on vacation, with a camera sitting off to the side on their table.
Crimson Hollow was a blend of human and preternatural. One would think that a town this small, the humans would know of their existence, but they were none the wiser, and the nonhuman residents wanted to keep it that way.
But with those rogue vampires acting like assholes, their secret might not stay secret for long. The last thing Zeppelin wanted was for the Ultionem to show up because a town full of humans discovered what had been under their noses since the first human became bipedal.
“They’re getting bolder.” Zeppelin kept his voice low despite the clatter of plates and hum of conversation around them. “Last night they chased a fae onto my property.”
Mitch’s eyebrows shot up. “A fae? That’s a first.”
“Tell me about it.” Zeppelin drummed his fingers against the worn Formica tabletop. Red vinyl booths lined the walls, each one filled with chattering patrons. Overhead, ceiling fans spun lazily, circulating the mouthwatering aromas from the kitchen.
His jaw clenched as he thought about those bloodsuckers.
Three months of cat and mouse was getting old.
First, they’d killed a human resident on the mountain trail.
Then one had injured Chase in an alley, landing a kidney shot that had forced him to shift in public so he could heal.
Thankfully no human resident had witnessed his pack member changing into a furry wolf.
And then one of them had stalked Jalen with the intent to drain him dry. A line no one crossed without consequences. Zeppelin didn’t fuck around when it came to protecting a mate, even one that wasn’t his own.
Now Newt last night. Zeppelin was still tripping about a fae under their roof.
He’d heard of them, the good ones and the dark ones, but he’d never met a fae in person.
Zeppelin had been stunned when he learned one had flown inside in an attempt to flee the vampires.
He’d finally seen the small guy when Vaughn had his nightmare.
The guy couldn’t be more than five feet tall with cotton-candy hair and big violet eyes.
When he’d seen Newt drape himself over Vaughn, even after the beta had attacked him, Zeppelin had felt a spark of pride for Newt.
Even since Vaughn had been kidnapped and tortured, he’d been a fucking mess. Zeppelin couldn’t blame him. When they’d rescued Vaughn, he’d been broken in ways Zeppelin didn’t want to think about. But after searching the entire place for the demon, they’d come up empty-handed.
If Zeppelin ever got his hands on Vex, he would return the favor.
“Same three?” Mitch asked, leaning back as a waiter approached with their order.
“Yep. The three remaining out of the original five.”
The human waiter, Jace, set down plates heaped with eggs, hash browns, and thick slices of bacon. “Anything else I can get you fellas?”
“We’re good, thanks.” Zeppelin offered a smile. “How’s your dad doing?”
“Getting better,” Jace replied with a grin. “He appreciated the groceries you had delivered.” The guy blushed. “Been kinda tough since he lost his job after the accident.”
A driver behind the wheel of a semi passing through the outskirts of town had dozed off, drifting into the opposite lane and collided with Thomas’s pickup.
It was a miracle Jace’s dad survived. The pickup had been reduced to a paperweight.
At least he could make up for the lost wages once the settlement came through.
“Let me know if you guys need anything else.” Zeppelin sipped his coffee. “I trust you to tell me since I know your old man has too much pride.”
Jace blushed. “I will. Thank you, Mr. Mafari.”
Zeppelin would’ve told the guy to call him by his first name, but Thomas had raised his son to respect his elders.
If Thomas only knew how much older Zeppelin truly was.
“Should I put in Preston’s order?” Jace asked as Axel called out an order from behind the passthrough.
A chuckle escaped. Had he become that predicable? “Yeah. The usual.” His mate would have a fit if Zeppelin didn’t bring him home something to eat, even though their kitchen was packed with food. Didn’t matter. He loved spoiling his sunshine.
As Jace walked away, Mitch picked up his fork. “We’ll keep looking, but without knowing where they’re nesting during the day…”
“I know.” Zeppelin cut into his eggs, watching the yolk spread across his plate. “It’s only a matter of time before we find them.”
And when Zeppelin did, he would make sure there wasn’t enough left of them to bury.
* * * *
Sunlight sliced through the blinds, painting stripes across the tangled blankets.
Vaughn’s muscles ached from spending the night on the floor, but the weight of Newt curled against him made the discomfort worth it.
His mate’s breath warmed his collarbone, each exhale a tiny reminder that somehow, despite everything, Vaughn hadn’t scared him away.
Newt stirred, eyelashes fluttering against pale cheeks. Then his eyes opened, violet meeting brown in the half-light. His mate looked softer in the morning, all sleep-rumpled hair and warm skin.
“How’re you feeling this morning?” Newt asked, voice husky from sleep.
Vaughn leaned down, his lips ghosting over Newt’s.
A soft whisper of skin, a gasp he caught and treasured.
The kiss started gentle, almost hesitant—an apology, a question, a confession all at once.
Newt’s lips were impossibly soft beneath his, parting slightly with a hitch of breath that tasted like possibility wrapped in tenderness.
A possibility that Vaughn could somehow make this work. He had no idea how, but the thought of letting Newt go was starting to become unbearable.
His fingers found their way to Newt’s cheek, tracing the curve of it as the kiss deepened. Heat bloomed between them, slow and steady as sunrise. Newt’s hand slid up to cradle the back of Vaughn’s neck, pulling him closer with surprising strength for someone so small.
The scent of him, sweet and wild like a forest after rain, filled Vaughn’s lungs, driving away the lingering shadows of last night’s terrors.
Trembling hands found their way to Vaughn’s shoulders, fingertips massaging muscle, turning the gentle press of lips into something hungrier.
He rolled until his mate was spread out beneath him, pulling back just enough to see Newt’s face—cheeks flushed, eyes half-lidded, lips parted. The sight hit him like a punch to the gut.
“Good morning to you too,” Newt murmured, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
Lowering his head, Vaughn nuzzled the sensitive spot beneath Newt’s ear. His mate’s pulse jumped under his lips, a rapid flutter that matched the rhythm building in his own chest.
He kissed a path down Newt’s neck, savoring the soft gasp when he grazed teeth against tender skin. He fisted that impossible hair, using the gentle grip to tilt Newt’s head back, exposing more of his throat.
“Your bedside manner has improved significantly since last night.” Newt’s voice hitched when Vaughn’s teeth found his earlobe.
A laugh rumbled from Vaughn’s chest, surprising even himself. “Low bar.”
“I’m not complaining.” Newt traced the contours of Vaughn’s face, mapping him with curious touches. “Though I’m starting to think wolf shifters might be morning people.”
“Not in the slightest.” He captured Newt’s wandering hand, pressing a kiss to his palm before returning to his mouth. This was the kind of morning he could get used to. Soft kisses and an even softer mate curled in his arm.
“You taste like magic,” Vaughn murmured against the pulse point at Newt’s throat.
The sound of Newt’s laugh rippled softly, carrying a cadence that felt alive and bright. “Is that good or bad?”
“Definitely good.” He nipped at the sensitive skin beneath Newt’s ear, drawing another of those addictive little gasps. “Though I’m pretty sure you've cast some kind of spell on me.”
“I hope not. You might end up with polka-dotted fur and a sudden craving for cat food.” Newt’s fingers dug into his shoulders, clinging to Vaughn like he was the last lifeboat on a sinking ship.
Their kisses became edged with a desperation that made Vaughn’s pulse thunder in his ears. He’d forgotten what this felt like—wanting someone so badly it hurt. Or maybe he’d never known it at all, not like this.
Mouth dragged along Newt’s jaw, down the column of his slim throat, breathing in the scent of his mate. Newt’s pulse fluttered beneath his lips like a captured bird.
His wolf stirred, demanding more. Closeness, contact, claim.
The urge was tamped down, leaving him to focus instead on the way his mate arched against him, small body fitting perfectly under his larger frame. His hand slid down Newt’s side, feeling the contours of ribs and hip beneath the borrowed shirt.