Chapter Two #2
If he revealed too much, too soon, she’d run. He couldn’t have that. There were too many dangers that she faced. Too many who wanted to take her away from him.
A howl sounded in the distance. Ah, a pack was closing in. Too late. “When we go outside, I won’t let anyone else touch you.” A solemn promise.
She stared at him, as if trying to decide whether or not he was telling the truth. He was. Absolutely.
“You’re not a hunter,” Devereaux told her as he leaned in close. No humans were close. His power kept them away. “You turned away from that life, so you’re not prepared to handle the beasts coming for you. Trust me. I’ll take care of them.”
“I still don’t get why you’re helping me, or how you seem to know so much about me.”
He knew everything. He’d made a point of learning every secret. “I’ll tell you, soon enough.” First, it was time to get her outside.
Time to get her to his home.
He shoved open the club’s door. The cold air came at him, and he thought of her shoeless, cute little feet. He didn’t want her walking on the cold pavement. Devereaux scooped her into his arms and hurried away from the club and the loud humans.
“Fucking bastard!” A tall, broad-shouldered asshole with too-long blond hair strode from the darkness. Four men were at his back. All built along the same long and rough lines. Powerful. Dangerous. Beasts usually were. “You think you got to her first?”
Devereaux lowered Lark until her feet touched the concrete and gently pushed her behind his back. “As usual, Martin, you’re too late. Must suck always coming in second place.”
The men behind the alpha growled.
Devereaux just laughed. “Are you missing a pack member?” Innocently, he posed the question.
“I do believe I saw him a few moments ago. The fellow was crawling away to lick his wounds.” He let his laughter and smile fade as his stare sharpened on the pack.
“Take a step toward my Lark, and you’ll all be doing the same. ”
Martin fisted his hands. “The deal is over. The new year has dawned. I want my vengeance. I’m due.”
Screw this. The werewolf with the too-loud mouth was going to ruin everything.
Devereaux surged forward. He locked his fingers around the alpha’s throat and lifted the werewolf two feet off the ground.
An alpha was strong, but no match for a vampire with royal blood.
“I got her first,” he rasped, keeping his voice low so that Lark would not overhear.
“That means I’m due. All vengeance is mine.
She is mine. You try to take her, and I’ll destroy every member of your pack. Are we clear?”
Martin drove his claws into Devereaux’s chest. Blood poured from him, and Devereaux heard Lark scream.
Wrong choice, wolf. He snapped Martin’s neck. A hard yank of his hand, and Devereaux tossed the body to the ground. As expected, the wolves went freaking wild. Two charged at him, while the other two ran for Lark. Oh, hell no, you don’t.
He caught the two who came for him. He let his own claws lengthen, and he slashed those bastards. Then he grabbed them and tossed the shifters into the street. A passing car slammed on the brakes and the driver’s angry horn filled the night.
“Get away from me!” Lark yelled, and in the next moment, Devereaux caught the scent of burning flesh.
He whirled and saw one of the werewolves stagger back, clutching his face. Lark had shoved some sort of…silver trinket into his cheek. An earring? Clever. The wolf was flipping out as he ran and burned.
But the other guy—the last standing werewolf—let out a bellow of fury.
His hands flew up toward the night sky as the werewolf’s body shook.
He was still a man, but he was pulling up the beast within.
Devereaux saw the fellow’s muscles bulge, his fingertips lengthen into claws, his fur burst along his skin…
The bastard is daring to change with so many humans nearby? With so many eyes? With Lark so close?
The wolf intended to kill her. He knew it. Therefore, well, that wolf was dying.
Devereaux yanked out his silver knife. He grabbed the wolf—mid-shift—spun the fool around, and plunged his knife into the SOB’s heart. “Mine,” he whispered into the dying werewolf’s ears. “Mine to keep, mine to protect, mine forever.” He let the guy fall. Then he whirled back to face the others.
Martin was starting to rise with a groan. A broken neck wouldn’t kill an alpha. The others crawled limply toward him.
“Mine!” Devereaux blasted at them. “And no one takes what is mine. Not without a war. Be sure you’re ready for that before you come at her or me again.”
Then—because he hated that Lark’s feet were cold—Devereaux scooped her into his arms once more.
He rushed down the street, and soon, they were at the limo. Helsing stood by the back door, holding it open for them. Devereaux slid her inside, cradling her carefully. The door slammed behind them. Helsing whistled as he made his way to the front of the vehicle. And then…
They were moving. Leaving the werewolves.
Lark was in his arms. She’d kissed him at midnight. She’d chosen him.
Her scent surrounded him. She tempted and beckoned. So Devereaux decided it was time to take. He pulled her even closer, and his mouth went for her throat as—
A stake poked into his chest.
“I don’t think so,” Lark told him flatly.
He’d forgotten that she had a stake hidden up her sleeve. Literally.
“The kiss was payment for our little deal. You don’t get blood from me, vamp.”
Eventually, yes, he would.
A little shiver skated over her. “Tell me what in the hell is going on. Tell me why I’ve got monsters coming out of the freaking woodwork. Why is everyone after me?”
“Put down the stake.”
“Tell me!”
He rolled one shoulder in a shrug. “I just saved you. Are you really going to stake the vamp who protected you?”
“Maybe.”
His eyes narrowed on her. He could see her racing pulse. Pounding fast at the base of her throat. It would be so easy to lean forward and sink his teeth—
The stake jabbed harder at him. “Why is everyone after me?”
Devereaux sighed. “Because, love, the new year has started.”
“Uh, yeah, so?”
“And every beast out there has one resolution…”
She waited.
“That resolution is…to get you.”